


I'm Here (Except When You're Not)

by LittleWonderly



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Bisexual Kevin Day, Explicit Sexual Content, Homophobic Language, Hurt/Comfort, Kevin is not okay, M/M, Nightmares, Original Characters - Freeform, Panic Attack, Past Abuse, Polyamory, but he will be
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2020-10-18 18:21:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 84,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20643599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleWonderly/pseuds/LittleWonderly
Summary: He’s going to leave me.The thought raged its way through his mind so fiercely it burned. He’d thought it for months, he’d imagined a hundred different ways before falling asleep but he wasn't prepared for the moment, not even close.Kevin graduates from the Foxes and has to leave behind everything that he has come to know. His new family, both blood and not. His partners. With the absence of all he has come to rely on, is being alone something Kevin can survive?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first go at writing in this fandom and i hope i manage to do these characters justice. Kevin Day owns my heart but with that said, i worry he may be a little ooc in this but i hope to only get better at that in the future! 
> 
> (alas, my biggest writing weakness is tenses so i apologise ahead of time for the inevitable mess i probably make of that!)
> 
> *Edited after initial posting by the wonderful Essence29 who is a gem among humans and helped make this whole thing sound so much better!*

There was a box underneath the window that had all of Kevin's history books carefully wrapped in paper and another by the sofa that had a mismatched array of plates and dishes not so carefully packed. The bed had been built but the bookshelf was still in its packaging, while his desk had three legs attached and more screws spare than seemed logical. His shoes were lined up neatly by the door but it was going to be a scavenger hunt to find where the bag with all his socks had ended up.

He had chosen this apartment for its large window in the living room that took up nearly the whole wall and had a bench built into the front of it. If he sat there he could see for miles around his new area; he’d been imagining curling up there to drink his coffee in the morning since he signed the lease. 

There was an entire apartment of half-built things and whispers of new starts, but already there was the start of ghosts clinging to his possessions.

The spot where Andrew had leaned against to smoke his last cigarette, smirking when Kevin tutted that the balcony was two steps beside him. The drawer left opened where Neil had tried to be helpful with unpacking but had given up in favour of rummaging through bags for the right sweater of Kevin’s to steal. There was the imprint of his partners already stained into his new home but the men themselves were gone.

They’d taken three days to help Kevin move into his first apartment. They could have come sooner, spent more time, but Kevin had been surprisingly unwilling to leave Palmetto any sooner than he had to. He had wanted to steal as much time as possible pretending that he wasn’t about to be split from his two partners, from the place where his father lived, from the first court that had truly felt like home.

Not much ‘moving in’ had actually happened during the three days. Andrew was unwilling to put much effort into building anything except the bed and Neil was the most unorganised person between them. They’d spent three days eating take out, taking walks around new streets, and trading kisses between spats of unpacking the essentials. The most expensive thing Kevin had purchased for his apartment was a bed big enough for all of them, and even three short days was enough for it to feel like _their_ bed and not Kevin's alone. Christened thoroughly, Kevin wondered if he’d be able to sleep alone in something already tangled with memories of Neil's moans and Andrews's deep eyes.

Too soon and they had left. Always too soon. Back on the road to Palmetto, and Kevin had waved them off with the promise that he would be fine. That he’d finally actually get some unpacking done without them underfoot and then he’d start practice with his new team the next day. He’d snipped that he was looking forward to the quiet, to some calm, after years living in the live wire bubble that was Fox Tower.

He hated the quiet.

Standing in the middle of his kitchen he swallowed heavily, fingers pulling his phone from his pocket even as they trembled just a little. The illumination of the screen burned his eyes in the dark. He hadn’t noticed the sunset around him. They’d still be on the road, the drive back to Palmetto took hours and years and decades; soon they’d be completely out of Kevin’s grasp, the distance seemingly insurmountable. He hovered over Andrew’s name. Neil was driving, he knew, had seen Andrew toss him the keys as he slid himself into the passenger seat and away from Kevin’s orbit.

It had only been a handful of hours but the crushing weight of his empty rooms felt like boulders in his chest. He wanted to hear the low timbre of Andrew’s voice, have him tell him how stupid he was being. He wanted to be told to move and breathe and unpack so maybe he just might be able to get some sleep.

He wanted Neil curled up around him for just one more night. Just one more time so he could memorise how his chest rose and fell, how he sighed right as he fell asleep and wrinkled his nose as he woke up.

_ Ravens don’t know how to be alone. _

He’d told Jeremy that over a year ago when the man had asked him for help with settling Jean into his new home with the Trojans. He’d had been free of Evermore for over three years and yet, he’d never been alone like this. He wasn’t a Raven anymore, _he wasn’t, he isn’t, he used to be, always had been, always would be…_

He closed the contact list on his phone and screwed his eyes shut. He let himself imagine for one minute that Andrew would walk through the door from his balcony, the last wisps of smoke clinging to him, that Neil was going to yell from the other room that takeout was on the way. Kevin would scold them both for their poor habits but he’d smile that smile only they could bring out of him all the same. He let himself pretend that when he opened his eyes there’d be striking blue or deep amber gazing back at him.

Kevin opened his eyes and breathed slowly, once, twice and took the steps needed to turn on a light and open the nearest box.

…

When he woke up in the morning, he didn’t look at the empty spaces in the bed next to him, didn’t let his eyes drift to the two coffee mugs beside his in the cupboard, pretended he didn’t flinch when he opened the balcony door and it wasn’t occupied. He didn’t check his phone either. 

He’d woken once during the night to his phone lighting up the room, a text telling him that his boyfriends had arrived back home safely. The message hadn’t been any more elaborate than that. He knew he’d only got it because he’d demanded one of them send it, but its simplicity still stung in a way he didn’t want to focus on. He’d turned the phone off straight after sending his own short reply.

He could imagine Andrew’s face if he knew the phone was still sitting dark. It was a constant battle to have Neil keep his phone on him, one that Kevin gladly joined in with. The hypocrisy wasn’t lost on him at that moment. He went through his morning with a pit already forming and pretended it was nerves for the coming day.

It only took him twenty minutes to drive to his new team’s stadium (a deciding factor in why he chose the place) and he contemplated turning the radio on to drown out the silence of absence but when he reached for the dial his fingers paused. He could feel the ghost of Neil cycling through channel after channel simply because he knew it drove Kevin mad. Followed by him throwing a smug grin at Kevin, when Andrew inevitably groaned at them to stop bickering. 

He drove the whole way with it turned off.

His new team’s stadium was so different from the Foxhole Court that for a moment when he pulled into the car park, he hesitated. He never thought he would miss the eyesore that was all the orange, in fact, had you asked him before he would have answered how he was looking forward to not having to stare at the migraine-inducing colour. Now, as he stared at all of the blue that was his new stadium, all he could think was that he definitely wasn’t home anymore.

There were other players arriving around him, climbing from their cars and calling greetings as they headed to and through the doors. Kevin was the only one stalling in his car, the only one scared still by a colour. His fingers itched to dig his phone from his bag. He wondered if there was a message there, if either of his boyfriends were up yet. Would Neil have forgone his morning run to catch up on sleep? Andrew would have wanted him too, but he wouldn’t have forced him all the same. Were they still in bed, curled around each other, spread across the bed into the space Kevin had left vacant?

He was not sure whether knowing would be worse than guessing. 

Scrubbing a hand down his face, he forced himself to take a breath and exit the car. He could feel eyes on him as he made his way across the car park but ignored them.

He was Kevin Day, he was used to people watching him.

…

“Kevin Day.” Someone called, as Kevin walked into the locker room. It was more of a bark really and he paused, hackles raised immediately.

Across the room was someone he knew only from one meeting when he was signing on to the team. During negotiations, Kevin had met with the Coach, a deceptively small woman, who in one meeting effectively made it clear she wouldn’t be giving Kevin any slack because of his fame. When he’d told Neil and Andrew about Nala Fitzs they’d only laughed and snorted respectively.

“How will you survive without your title?” Andrew had teased and Kevin had merely flipped him off.

His new Captain had come along when Kevin had flown out to sign on the dotted line. He was taller than Kevin, not something that happened often, and built like a brick house. He’d reminded Kevin a lot of Matt, yet even from a few minutes in his presence, he knew there was none of the easy softness Matt exuded.

Donovan was straight-faced and straight forward. Watching tapes of him playing, Kevin couldn’t help but admit that the man was good, really good. He played as a Dealer and he played hard and skillfully. He didn’t let himself give an inch less than he was capable of. He was a good pick for Captain. He’d also made Kevin nervous in a way that had him wishing Andrew was at his back.

“Forgive us if we don’t bow,” Donovan laughed from where he lent, arms crossed against his locker. There was a lilt to his voice that told Kevin the man was likely joking but it made his skin itch all the same.

Kevin was used to remarks about his tattoo but it didn’t make them any less annoying.

“Donovan,” He nodded, adjusting the strap of his bag and not acknowledging his other teammates staring from their places along the room. “Which lockers mine?”

“You’re next to me.”

Kevin turned to look at the woman behind him, gesturing to the locker beside her. His new team’s stadium was oddly set out, what with two different sets of locker. Personal belongings stayed out on the lounge while uniforms were housed in the separate changing rooms.

“I don’t bite...well, not unless you ask.” 

She smirked and for a second she reminded him so heavily of Allison he had to blink hard. It lasted only a second, in reality, the two looked nothing alike. Where Allison was all blond fire, this woman was a redhead, hair sticking out in unruly curls. Allison wouldn’t be caught dead looking that unkempt. 

He didn’t realise he had been staring at her in silence until she snorted, turning to open her own locker.

“Don’t have a heart attack, I was joking,” She threw over her shoulder. “Mostly.”

Kevin approached her cautiously all the same, dumping his bag at his feet to open his locker. It again wasn’t orange.

“Aisling Watts,” The woman offered, turning and holding her hand out to him. “Fellow Striker, a fan of yours, though that’ll be the last time you’ll hear me say it.”

“Noted.” He offered, shaking her hand without looking up from unpacking his gear. 

He didn’t tell her that he already knew her name, that he knew every players’ name. He’d spent many nights pouring over all the information he could find about his soon to be teammates. Andrew had called him compulsive. Neil had just sent him more articles.

“Man of few words,” Aisling muttered. “I’m sure you’ll fit in  _ fine  _ here.”

Kevin didn’t flinch at that word but it was a close thing with the way his heart lurched and clenched. He missed Neil’s presence in the locker room in that instant like a limb. He pushed the feeling down between one breath and the next, and by the time the coach was calling them all in for the morning's meeting his face was set into indifference.

It’ll all be okay once he got on the court.

…

He’d been staring at his phone since he got home from practice. He hadn’t even gotten changed from his gear, before settling himself into the corner of his window, unlocking his phone but not yet pressing call on either Neil or Andrew’s number. It was still light when he got home, but the sun had dipped below the surrounding buildings now. He should get up and turn on a light but didn’t, and instead let the growing darkness obscure the room around him. If he couldn’t see it, then he could pretend wasn’t empty.

He couldn’t remember who was supposed to call who first. Couldn’t remember if they even decided that at all. He thought there was a conversation, promises to talk, promises of phones always being within reach and a voice on the other end; but he couldn’t remember who was supposed to go first.

He was staring so hard at the phone, trying to force himself to make the call, that it took him a moment to feel it ringing in his hand. Neil’s name appeared on the screen as if Kevin had summoned him, and the small tendril of fear that had started to wrap around Kevin’s chest eased just a little when he pressed accept.

“_Hey._” 

Neil’s voice is cheery through the phone, light. He could hear the soft brush of a breeze through the line and knew Neil must already be up on the roof. It didn’t take much trying to picture him up there, a cigarette between his fingertips and his legs curled up into his chest.

Kevin wondered what he was wearing tonight, for surely it isn’t something of his own. It never was. Andrew’s jacket was identical to his own, but he seemed to prefer it all the same. Either that or one of Kevin’s sweatshirts. They swallowed him in size, but sometimes Neil would wear them in the quiet of their room with nothing else beneath it. Andrew would roll his eyes whenever Kevin refused to let Neil take it off when he fucked him, but his gaze would be burned on them all the same.

“_Thought you were calling when practice got out?_” Neil hummed.

Failure rose strong and fast in Kevin’s throat, even though logically he knew it was irrational. Neil’s confused tone was just that. Confusion, and maybe a hint of concern, but mostly just curiosity. It was not a reprimand, regardless of how it instantly weighed down in Kevin’s chest.

“Ran long,” He shrugged even though he couldn’t be seen. “Where’s Andrew?”

“_Here._”

The sound of Andrew’s voice flooded warmth through Kevin, and he let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. Maybe he’d been holding it ever since they left. It’d been one day but he could already feel the absence of them like a missing organ. Their voices on the other end of the line were like a soothing balm, but a poor replacement for them actually being next to him.

“Hi,” Kevin said softly, softer than he might have if they were together.

He could hear the short snort of breath Andrew often made, and couldn’t help but smile.

“_How did meeting your team go?_” Neil asked, sounding like he couldn’t get the question out fast enough.

“_Junkies,_” Andrew teased familiarly. “_He hasn’t stopped talking about you all day._”

To anyone else it would have sounded like a flippant remark, meant maybe to tease or embarrass Neil, but Kevin knew Andrew by now; knew he didn’t say anything without reason or intent. It was Andrew telling Kevin that he hadn’t been forgotten because Andrew was Andrew, and he knew his boys better than they knew themselves. It should have been comforting, it was, but at the same time it made Kevin shudder. The reminder that he was gone from them sat heavily, as did the knowledge of how insecure that made him. He felt embarrassed even though he knew he didn’t need to be, not with them.

“_Kev?_” Neil called, and Kevin blinked, quickly running a hand over his face and into his eyes.

“Yes?”

There was a pause, a thick silence, and Kevin knew without being there the sort of silent conversation Neil and Andrew would be having. It made him annoyed for a split second, a hot feeling of jealousy pooling, before he caught himself and pushed it away. It had been months since he’d been envious of the different type of connection they had and now, with this distance between them, was not the time to let himself sink back into it.

Neil's voice was hesitant, careful, when he spoke again, “_You okay Kevin?_”

“Just tired. Hard first day.” It wasn’t really a lie.

“_You not getting along with your team?_”

“It’s only been a day,” Kevin shrugged, pulling his knees up onto the seat with him. The glass of the window behind him was cold when he leaned his face against it. “They’re good players, there’s potential here.”

“_Do you think it's a good fit then?_”

No, it wasn’t. Because it didn't have Neil and it didn’t have Andrew. But he didn’t think that was what Neil was asking though, so pushed the words down in his throat.

“Yeah,” He said instead, trying to make it sound believable. “I think it’s going to work.”

There was another puff of air from Andrew but the man otherwise stayed quiet. A desperate feeling rushed through Kevin, and he wanted the man to speak. He wanted to hear his voice, the rough timbre of it alongside the lightness of Neil's. Words from Andrew were sparse even in person, used carefully, purposely. It was something Kevin had come to appreciate in the man, but right now it felt like dismissal. It felt like disinterest.

“Andrew?” He found himself saying, the name spilling from him before he could stop it.

Andrew hummed to show he’d heard but still didn’t say anything. Kevin didn’t know what to say himself, didn’t know what he wanted Andrew to say. He took a shuddering breath and rolled his forehead on the glass.

“_You sure you’re okay?_” Came over the phone but it was still Neil speaking, voice filled with more concern.

Kevin hummed, letting his eyes fall closed. “It’s quiet here.” He offered, not really an answer.

Neil huffed a laugh that sounded forced. “_Certainly isn’t here. Be glad you’re out of university dorms for life._”

Kevin made a little noise in an agreement but bit back countering that. The incessant noise of the dorms wasn’t what he meant, but the different sort of quiet, the content one that settled around the three of them, was what he missed. He didn’t know that quiet could mean more than just the absence of noise. Quiet now was the absence of life and heat and presence of other bodies near him.

“_Kevin._” The sound of Andrew made Kevin squeeze his eyes closed a little tighter.

“Here.” He imitated Andrew.

“_Breathe._”

Kevin’s lungs obeyed like Andrew was their lord and filled him with a deep pull of air. He released it slowly and opened his eyes to see it have fogged the window in front of him. He reached up a finger into the condensation, movements slow as he traced into it. Andrew and Neil's initials appeared without him deciding but made him smile all the same.

“I’m okay.” He said into the phone, forcing his body to uncurl. “Tell me about the new freshman.”

Neil made a gagging sound but immediately launched into a rant about the newest players, Andrew offering commentary sparsely but always there, breathing long and slow.

The call lasted for just over an hour before the cold forced Neil and Andrew from the roof. Saying goodbye this time wasn’t as hard, maybe because he didn’t have to watch them walk away from him this time. The promise of the next call was a lifeboat to Kevin’s anxiety and for a moment after the line dropped, he smiled, soft and small. They hadn’t forgotten him.

His elation lasted until he turned his head, expecting to see the small tracings of initials on his window. The letters had vanished though, disappearing like they had never existed, slipped away the second Kevin turned his back on them.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the lovely people who commented and liked the last chapter, each one made me smile. I plan to hopefully update this every Sunday so wish me luck with that :) 
> 
> I have to of course again thank my wonderful editor and friend Essence29 because she gives me such good advice and is the best motivator. Thank you!
> 
> Chapter warnings: Sexual Content near the start of the chapter, look for the italics if you'd like to skip.

His bed was too large. No matter how much he thought about moving he couldn’t convince his body to unfurl from the small ball he’d curled himself into in the middle of the bed. The space on either side of him felt suffocating, and his legs throbbed from blood loss but stretching out felt like giving in. It felt like admitting that no one was going to slide into those spaces, that when he blinked another body wouldn’t be warming the sheets and crinkling the pillows. Those spaces weren’t his to fill.

When Andrew came back he was going to want to be able to lay on the side of the bed with the wall behind him. Kevin couldn’t take the security away from his partner, couldn’t risk getting used to spreading into a space he needed consent to enter into. He needed to stay in the middle so Neil could climb in after them and have the door to his back, an easy exit he still needed so when he startled from sleep he didn’t feel trapped. If Kevin had to be uncomfortable in the meantime, well that was a small price to pay to give a little peace to both of them.

Still, his bed was too large. It was three in the morning and Kevin couldn’t sleep; hadn’t really been able to since the night he’d last felt their warmth and breath just a hair away from him. Huffing loudly, just to fill the silence in the room, he eventually convinced himself to turn over, one hand beating into his pillow to adjust it and tugging the comforter higher. It wasn’t cold in his apartment, but he felt exposed all the same. The inside of his head was a cacophony of thoughts when he just craved peace.

He wondered whether Neil and Andrew were asleep. It wouldn’t be strange for them to be awake at this hour, either huddled into the beanbag chairs in the lounge or tucked up on the roof somewhere. Sometimes it was nightmares that drew them up there, sometimes it was just the draw of a moment of silence and closeness.

He hoped they were asleep, even as he felt a niggle of jealousy at the idea of them curled around each other. Would they be pressed together as had become the norm on good nights, or would they have a safety net of space between them? Sometimes they would link hands over Kevin’s body in the night and the thought that Kevin would no longer be in the way of their closeness pierced his chest sharply.

He missed being close to them. He missed the feeling of their warmth at his sides and the little tickle of their breaths. He missed waking up in the mornings to slow kisses and sleep warm hands wandering over his skin. Some of the best mornings were ones that weren’t preceded by nightmares, ones where all three of them got to wake up rested and safe, and desire would build between them as slow and soft as the rising sun behind closed curtains. Neil’s hair would glow in that early morning light that seeped through the curtains and there was something about the dim quiet of a morning that melted all of Andrew's edges.

Did they still touch each other like glass that could shatter in the mornings? Did they still exchange kisses like small gifts? It was selfish to almost wish that the answer was no, to hope that the absence of Kevin would make their slow ritual less appealing. He couldn’t seriously hope they never had sex again just because he was no longer with them. He pushed at that thought violently, shoving it down and locking it away. He wanted his partners to feel good things, to feel loved and wanted and cherished. He wanted to give that to them and he wanted them to be able to give that to each other. The thought of them helping the other feel pleasure should only make Kevin feel good in return.

Shifting once more uncomfortably, he forced his mind to let the dark thoughts slip away. He wanted—no needed, to remember the good things. The image of Neil and Andrew stuck and he let his mind wander to better memories, to hands and mouths pressed against his. He let one of his favorites float through; the time they had sex on the floor of the Foxhole Court.

It hadn’t been the last time they had had sex before Kevin left for his pro team, not even close, but it stood out in his memory like a burning star all the same. It had been one of the most intimate coming-togethers that they’d had, second maybe only to their first. He remembered above all the emotion of it. He remembered the desperation and the care, the overwhelming feeling of being caught while the ground shifted below him. He remembered thinking that nothing would ever come close to the way being with Neil and Andrew felt. Nothing would ever feel as safe, nor as grounding. He remembered feeling like he belonged to them, and for the first time, belonging didn’t feel like a chain around his throat.

He let the memory fill him in the empty room, closing his eyes as if he could make it feel real.

_The blanket was scratchy and thin beneath him and when he dug his fingers into it he could feel the court floor below them. He half-wished there was no barrier between them and it, that he could feel the coolness of the ground against his skin. A few hours from now he knew he’d be glad they thought to bring the blanket when he wasn’t covered in friction burns._

_When he opened his eyes his vision was filled with lights of the stadium making it difficult to see the stands around them. Empty now, but he could imagine them full to burst as they were just hours before. If he really tried, he could almost feel thousands of eyes on him still and it shouldn’t be as much of a turn on as it was. The thought made him moan low in his throat, though that might’ve just been Andrew's tongue working him open and Neil’s lips tracing his chest with slow bites._

_“Junkie.” Andrew kissed into his thigh as if he could hear everything Kevin was thinking._

_“Don’t stop,” Kevin whined, arching into Neil when he gave a playful pull to one of his nipples._

_“Bossy too.” Andrew hummed, breath blowing over Kevin in a way that drove him mad with wanting._

_He huffed out a laugh even as he trembled. “You’re just getting that now?”_

_“Oh trust me, everyone is aware of that.” Neil's voice was teasing. His mouth kissed a line up his throat before he leaned over to find Kevin’s lips, tongue instantly seeking entrance. Kevin melted into it, hissing when Andrew swallowed him down whole in one quick movement._

_“Andrew’s going to finger you, yes or no?” Neil asked into his mouth, and Andrew hummed around Kevin to show agreement._

_“Fuck yes,” Kevin gasped, shaking with the effort to stay still and not buck into Andrew's mouth. He hadn’t been given permission, plus he knew Andrew much preferred to feel him struggle to keep his control._

_He heard the click of a cap and Neil shifted away from him for a second. When he lent back he placed one hand around Kevin’s jaw, tilting it back so he could lean down and bite into the skin of his neck. In the same moment, Andrew's mouth slid off of him and he felt a cool finger circling and then pushing inside of him. The sensation was like the universe righting itself. All his anxieties about graduating melted away as Andrew worked him open with practiced precision, adding a second finger and curling just so._

_“Andrew.” He gasped, biting off a choked off shout when three fingers were pressed down hard against his prostate._

_“There’s no one here to hear you but us,” Neil crooned, running a hand down Kevin’s front to grasp him in his hand, settling into a slow pace that had him keening._

_“Don’t muzzle yourself Day,” Andrew ordered, riding the wave of Kevin’s body to fuck his fingers into him. He matched his movements frustratingly on pace with Neil, far too slow, but so good that it made Kevin’s toes curl._

_He gasped raggedly into the empty air of the stadium._

_“I need–” He begged, and Neil flicked his wrist in such a way that his back arched off the floor. “Fuck, shit, I need, don’t stop, fuck I…”_

_“You need?” Neil teased, licking a long stripe up the exposed side of Kevin’s neck until he was level with his ear. He bit down on the lobe with a gentle press of teeth and Kevin hissed._

_“Fuck me.” He demanded breathlessly._

_“Getting there.” Andrew hummed from between his legs, pulling his fingers almost all the way out and pausing. Kevin whined and tried to follow but Neil let go of his cock to push his hips back down to the floor._

_“Behave,” Andrew ordered, leaning back on his heels to look down at the part of him connected to Kevin. He liked to see, both Neil and Kevin had learned. Andrew liked to see the places where he touched them, liked to see the places their bodies gave and he could coax sound from them. Andrew pressed his fingers in and out once, so slow that Kevin had to squeeze his eyes shut at the slow fizzle that snapped up his spine._

_“Andrew.” He moaned. “Andrew I can’t,”_

_“What do you want?” Andrew hummed because he was an asshole and one of his favorite things was to make Kevin beg over and over for them. It hadn’t been something Kevin found easy, especially in the beginning, expressing any sort of specific desire or want from them. He wanted them, yearned for them so fiercely that in those early few months he thought he would combust from it. Asking for something specific though, giving the other two directions, that came harder._

_He was so used to taking what he was given; beaten, until he accepted the fact that what he wanted always came second to Riko’s own desires. He’d told himself that he would take what they offered and never beg for a single scrap more._

_The pair of them had however taken to dismantling that way of thinking with a determined fervour that left Kevin destroyed more than once. It was easier now, easier with them, in the same way, that facing the whole world was easier with them at his sides._

_“Told you,” Kevin managed to move enough to look for Andrew's face only to find the man's eyes already waiting for him, “fuck me.”_

Kevin had had bruises, from being pushed rigorously against the court floor, for over a week from the unforgiving fervor that Andrew had carried out that demand.

So consumed in the memory Kevin never noticed that his hand had drifted down to his front, the images behind his eyes making him hard and so close that it only took a few quick strokes for him to finish into his fist. He moaned into the empty room with the ghost of Andrew’s voice in his ear, and Neils wicked eyes burning through him.

He gasped into the dark for a long moment before he opened his own eyes, and found the bed as empty as it was before. The next sound he made was a whimper and it was even harder to keep that one to himself.

…

“It seems the rumours about you were true,” Donovan said, as they were changing out after practice.

Kevin didn’t look up from where he was tying his shoes, but he could see him approach from the left. He wondered if he was trying to be intimidating. Kevin had spent too long around Andrew to be worried about Donovan just because he towered over him. Fear didn’t come from size, and both his boyfriends have always had more presence then his Captain could ever hope for. Any trepidations he’d had about the man at the start had dwindled, the anxiety he couldn’t name around a new captain disappearing when he was no comparison to Riko.

“I’m talking to you Day,” Donovan pressed. It didn’t sound like a threat. Everything aside, there was a reason he was the Captain and it was because when it came down to it, he cared about his players. He was just not particularly patient.

“What rumours?” Kevin sighed, just wanting to get whatever this conversation was over with.

“That you’re a dick.” Richard’s yelled from across the room, and that did make Kevin sit up.

Half the team had already left in the room, but the ones left were looking at him with annoyance. A quick glance around told him that Aisling had already left, though he wasn’t sure whether she would’ve defended him or not. It took him another second to realise that Donovan hadn’t, and the thought came easily that Dan would never have stood for a teammate talking crap to another, however true the statement.

“Okay?” He frowned, standing so he was toe to toe with Donovan in a way that forced the other man to step back. “Is that it?”

“Your attitude on the court is abysmal and I don’t know why your last team put up with it, but it won’t slide here.” Donovan elaborated.

Kevin snorted at that. If Donovan had ever met the Foxes he’d know having an attitude wasn’t something he held the market on.

“They could take constructive criticism.” Which was only true some of the time, but they didn’t need to know that. They’d gotten better, after Riko and the Raven’s game, at accepting Kevin’s way of showing encouragement.

“Constructive?” Richard squawked but Donovan held his hand up to silence the man.

“Last I checked you weren’t the Coach or the Captain.”

“And that means I can’t offer advice? I didn’t know this team was so threatened by the idea of improving. I feel I should’ve been told this before I signed.”

Donovan's eyes narrowed in a glare, and Kevin had a split second to wonder if he was about to be hit, before the look passed and the man sighed instead.

“There are ways of giving help Day, and shouting profanities at my teams isn’t one of them. Keep it civil and maybe some of them would listen to you.” He held his hand up to Kevin this time when he opened his mouth to interrupt. “No. Listen, we get it, you’re a big shot Raven but here on this team, you’re one of us and you need to start acting like it. Stop fighting everyone, every damn second, got it?”

Kevin felt like someone had slipped ice down the back of his shirt.

Big shot Raven.

He could feel everyone’s eyes on him, could feel the way they held their breath, waiting. Waiting for him to bite back a reply, to say something harsh or cruel because that was what they thought of him. Years away from the Nest and to these people, his new team, he was no different to them then Ri—he cut that thought off so forcefully he stumbled back a step. He couldn’t allow his mind to go there, not now, not in front of these people.

He saw Donovan’s face shift into concern at the sudden movement, and Kevin knew he could see the way tremors had broken out over his skin.

“Okay.” He forced out through a suddenly dry throat.

“Okay?” Donovan parroted. “Day are you—”

“If your team is so threatened by experience then I won’t waste my time trying to impart it.” He snapped, in a voice a shade too high, and much too thin.

He remembered turning but later wouldn’t remember leaving the building, getting into his car or the drive home. He didn’t come back to himself until he was back in his apartment, back pressed against the inside of his door, his legs having given out the second he was in the privacy of his own home.

His phone was clutched in his hands so tightly it had already left small indents into the skin. Sweat pooled coldly down his spine. With a glance at the phone's screen he swallowed roughly. Andrew's name was there, sitting in simple letters with the call button just a press away. What would Andrew have said if he’d been there? He certainly wouldn’t have let Donovan get away with calling Kevin a Raven.

“I’m a Fox.” He found himself whispering. “I’m a Fox, I’m a Fox.”

You’re Kevin Day. You are a Fox. Riko is dead and you are no longer his. You are your own.

The old mantra Andrew and Neil had started saying to him after his nightmares, rang in his head and he gripped to it, repeating it over and over. He repeated it until he could stop shaking, until he could force himself to stand, until the thought of breathing didn’t send knives through his chest. He repeated it until it was all he could hear until he could release the tight grip on his phone and close Andrew’s contact. He repeated it until the urge to call Andrew and hear him say it for real passed.

“I’m a Fox.” He wanted, needed, to remember that without having to be told.

…

He texted Neil the next morning, as he perched on his window seat. He had a mug of coffee in one hand and sitting in this spot had become a quick habit, but it wasn’t as satisfying as he thought it’d be. From here, he could see every inch of his apartment, bare and void of any other presence. The panic he felt the night before had dissipated, and in its place was embarrassment. This was one of the few times in his life, he didn’t want to have to go anywhere near practice.

**My team doesn’t like me.**

Neil rang him back almost immediately, and instead of feeling glad to have caught him at all, all Kevin could think was that Andrew must have already been in class. Neil’s voice held the same warm lilt that Kevin loved, but that just made his first words to Kevin worse.

“_Kevin, no team has ever liked you._”

He said it as a joke. It’s one he’d made before, and Kevin hadn’t taken to heart because he understood it wasn’t meant seriously. It was a light-hearted dig at his sometimes over-enthusiastic approach to giving criticism.

However, this time, it stung. He felt fragile, and the comment landed like a stab in his chest. He’d thought, by the end, that the Foxes had liked him? That they’d seen through some of his bluster, and understood that it was just because he cared so much about the game. He’d thought at least Neil and Andrew had liked being on his team.

“_Since when do you care what other players think?_” Neil asked when Kevin was silent a beat too long.

“I don’t.” He defended automatically. Other players' opinions were irrelevant. No one else mattered as long as he was winning; wasn’t that what Riko used to say?

“_Screw them then._” Neil laughed like it was that easy. Kevin knew it should be but still…

“_Listen,_” Neil said, and Kevin could hear him close a door and the well-known sound of shoes hitting the Fox Towers stairs. “_I’ve got class in a few and then I’m meeting Andrew for lunch at that new Chinese place they were building. ”_

Kevin ached all the way to his stomach because lunch dates somewhere besides the canteen were something he used to have to prod the other two into, at the start.

“_We’ll call you later yeah? Try not to make any new enemies at practice._”

Kevin thought he said goodbye, thought he laughed at the joke and passed on his hellos to Andrew, but it was twenty minutes later when he realized he was still staring at the black screen of his phone. His coffee had gone cold in his grip, and when he dumped it in the sink he pretended not to notice how much black coffee could look a little like whiskey as it swirled down the drain.

…

Nobody said anything to him as he arrived at that day's practice, nothing about the previous day's conversation at least. He could feel eyes on him though, heavy and familiar. Dan used to watch him like that sometimes when she thought his bad attitude was going to cause friction on her court. It sent an unfamiliar tickle of shame through him, the knowledge that even after all he had overcome with the Foxes, he was still unsavoury to the people around him.

The team ran their usual loop around the court and that part was easy enough. His feet hit the wooden floor with a consistent thump and for the few minutes it lasted he let the noise drown out everything else. He had never learned to enjoy runs the way Neil had but it was impossible to date the other man and not get roped into runs in the early morning light at least a few times a week. He had never looked forward to dragging his body from bed before the sun fully rose but the look Neil would give him at the end, sweaty and out of breath, and shining with energy was worth everything.

They split off into groups after their warm-up. Kevin followed the strikers but kept himself apart. He told himself it was to keep out of their way but Andrew's voice whispered liar in his head.

They ran shots against one of their goalies, a woman called Lena, who looked like she could tear half of them apart with only one hand. Kevin reckoned she could bench more than Andrew and that amused him for a small moment.

They took turns one after another trying to score and it took him only three of his own shots to frown down at his shoes and grit his teeth. He watched one more round of his teammates' attempts and had to clench his fingers around his racquet's to stop the frustrated hiss that wanted to come out.

Their goalie was broadcasting the side she was most ready to defend on.

It was causing her to leave her other side undefended and miss balls but Kevin wasn’t sure anyone but him had noticed. Their strikers were good. They all got signed pro for a reason and it was expected that they would be able to make shots, especially on a goal with no defending backliners. A good goalkeeper could read a striker and predict where they were going to aim and be ready to do the opposite regardless.

Lena was favouring her left side. Kevin had remembered reading up on her with files scattered out around him on the dorm room floor. She’d suffered an injury last season, a bad sprain on her left ankle that had kept her benched for multiple games. Coming back to play on it would have been understandably worrying. Any more severe injury to the ankle could bench her permanently.

Kevin noticed multiple times whenever it became clear she expected someone to strike left, she’d braced herself to swing that way. Braced too much. A goalkeeper should never make it obvious where they intended to go. While a keeper could read a striker, a striker could read the goal too.

“You’re pouting.”

Kevin jumped, glaring peevishly when Aisling lent herself on her racquet and grinned.

“I’m watching.” He corrected.

“Hm, do you always look this put out doing it?” She waved a gloved hand at him. “Never mind, don’t answer that.”

Kevin sighed. In only a few short weeks Aisling seemed to have taken it as her personal mission to take Kevin under her wing. It wasn’t that Kevin disliked her, but he wasn’t used to that type of attention she insisted on giving him. She would pop up, often randomly, around him and often she wouldn’t even say anything. Other times she’d fill the silence with a running commentary of the other players or snippets about her personal life.

He knew she had a boyfriend, a fiance as of recently. He knew she came from a small university across the country and how Exy had been the only thing that had allowed her to leave the even smaller town she had grown up in. Despite the effort she was clearly putting in, Kevin hadn’t yet worked out how to reciprocate.

“You should be waiting for your turn.” Was all he could come up with.

Aisling didn’t seem to mind the dismissal.

“I can miss one.”

Kevin opened his mouth to argue with her but she knocked her shoulder into his and waved a finger at him.

“Ah-ah,” she shushed him. “Come on, tell me what’s got you looking so sour. I can see you have something to say.”

Kevin’s hands tightened on his racquet and he determinedly looked away across the court. The coaches were busy talking to the dealers and weren’t paying them any mind.

“No one wants to hear what I have to say.” He hadn’t really intended to say it but couldn’t keep the bitterness out of his voice all the same.

Aisling snorted. “I didn’t think that was something that stopped you.”

Kevin stayed silent.

“No comments?” Aisling prodded and swung her racquet around once in her hands. “I heard about yesterday.”

Everyone had heard about yesterday, that much was blatantly clear. Clearly going pro wasn’t as different to university as he might have hoped.

“It was nothing.”

“That’s not how I heard it.” Aisling reached up and unhooked her helmet, shaking the loose hair out of her eyes.

“You’re still on the court.” Kevin chastised her.

Aisling waved a hand at him and went back to leaning on her stick.

“The only ones with balls at this end are the strikers and they’re all shooting the opposite way, I’ll be fine.”

Kevin’s teeth were going to grind down to nothing if he didn’t stop clenching his jaw but he found it hard to relax all the same. He should have known better than to think he’d get away with only one conversation about the less than stellar reception to his advice.

“Let's just get this over with.” He folded the arm not holding his racquet around his middle, left hand buried under his armpit. From the corner of his eye, he could see Aisling tilt her head at him curiously.

“What do you think I’m going to say?”

Kevin tutted. “Call me a dick like Richards?”

“Richards a dick,” Aisling said with no hesitation but also no heat. “He shouldn’t have gotten involved, but then Donovan should’ve known better than to talk to you in the locker room. I think he just didn’t want you to feel like you were being dragged into the principal's office.”

Kevin turned his head round to stare at her and eyed her cautiously, confused. Aisling looked back at him calmly.

“That’s…” He tried to formulate words, surprised that Aisling had sounded almost defensive of him.

“Did you really think I was going to rag on you? I know we haven’t gotten to know each other that well yet Day but it’s not really my style.”

Kevin chewed the inside of his cheek and shuffled from foot to foot. “You don’t agree with them?”

He’d meant the question to sound curious but it came out sounding hopeful. He’d gotten used, back at Palmetto, to having someone in his corner. Whether it’d be Neil or Andrew, his father; someone was nearly always there in the end to understand him and the way he tried to help the team.

Aisling knocked one of her feet into his.

“I think your delivery could use a heck of a lot of work but no, I don’t think you’re a complete dick.” She paused for a beat and then her gaze shifted to down the court. “Donovan doesn’t either.”

Kevin followed her gaze to see their captain overseeing drills of his own. He was expressive and loud but level, offering out advice and encouragement.

“I didn’t get that impression yesterday.”

“Men.” Aisling scoffed. “He’s not much better at correctly expressing things than you seem to be, though your considerably more hostile. He meant well.”

“I am not hostile.” Kevin immediately seethed, and Aisling raised one eyebrow in a slow arch to indicate otherwise.

Kevin scoffed. “Was there another way I was meant to take it then? My advice isn’t welcome. No one wants to be told by the Raven.”

“No, they don’t.” Aisling turned fully to face him, nudging him with her stick until he reluctantly turned too.

“I don’t see any Ravens here though.”

The words hit him sharply and he couldn’t help the small flinch he let out. It didn’t matter how many years that he’d been free, how long since he’d stepped on a court orange instead of black; being reminded he was no longer his upbringing still made something in his chest squeeze. Most times it was relief but sometimes, on some darker days, it would be something else.

“Did you know Luke was never a Captain before he went pro?” Aisling offered after a few moments of heavy silence. It was weird to Kevin to hear her use Donovan’s first name. He wasn’t sure he’d heard anyone else use it and assumed it was out of respect for his position.

“He wanted to, I think he’s always wanted to, but they wouldn’t let him.”

“Let him?” Kevin frowned, the phrasing odd. “If he wasn’t the best pick on his team then—”

“Not everything is about being the best,” Aisling cut over him. “You’d have to ask him for the story, but he takes his position ridiculously serious now that he has it. He wants to help everyone, wants to keep all sides working together. He’s trying to constantly prove himself even though he doesn’t need to.”

She slanted a look at him. “I don’t know if you know this but you’re slightly intimidating. If he was harsh with you, well, it’s because he wants you to fit in here with us.”

“I don’t need friends.” Kevin defended out of habit.

“No, but wouldn’t you like some?”

Kevin didn’t have an answer for that, or at least one that he trusted himself to give.

“Fighting us every step of the way is a shitty game plan. They shouldn’t have ganged up on you yesterday and it definitely shouldn’t be spreading around the team like water cooler gossip, but the sentiment was solid. You gotta start taking a breather and not pounce on us immediately. We’re all here because we want this and I know that perfection was a big thing where you came from, but we’re on your side. If Donovan got frustrated with you, it’s because he doesn’t want you cutting yourself off at the knees by getting on everyone’s bad side. I’m all for you giving us advice, hell I’m here for you busting our asses if we fuck up, but you gotta let some things go, okay? You’ll get further with everyone if you stop treating every mishap like an insult.”

Kevin swallowed hard and forced his face not to react. He was never as good at it as Andrew, but he tried nonetheless.  
“Gossip doesn’t bother me.”

Aisling tilted her head at him. “I think you like to think nothing out here does.”

“And you think I’m a liar?” Kevin asked and was only distantly aware of the hilarity of his own question.

Aisling's grin was shark-like. “We’re all liars to someone, even if it's just ourselves.”

There was nothing Kevin could say to that startling bit of truth and Aisling seemed to know it as she pushed her helmet back onto her head. It was only as she started to jog backwards, that Kevin realised the strange looks the other strikers were sending them and how many turns they must have missed.

“Go tell Donovan about how Lena’s still compensating for her ankle, hell, go talk to her if you think you can keep it civil. Polite words, yeah?”

Kevin blinked, realizing the feeling bubbling in his chest was pride that Aisling had noticed the same issue he had. When she hollered his name again it drew the attention of most of the team.

“Use your p’s and q’s!”

Kevin flipped her off even as she gave him a thumbs-up, but couldn’t keep the smallest of grins off the corner of his mouth.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who has commented and liked so far! Its been the highlight of my week every time i see a new notification pop up. Especially thank you to Exycuter on Tumblr for raving about my story in the bestest way. 
> 
> A million thank you's to Essence29 again for continuing to go above and beyond helping me edit and letting me go on at her about these characters!

He wasn’t blind. He’d seen the way Donovan kept looking at him when he thought Kevin couldn’t see him. He was used to being looked at with annoyance, with hate or disgust, and even sometimes with awe. But it’d been a while since someone had looked at him such open skepticism and the weight of that look was suffocating.   
  
He wasn’t sure what’s so different about being here versus being with the Foxes. He’d been told so many times there about his attitude, about his tough-love approach to teamwork. It hadn’t bothered him then, not really, not by the end at least. Perhaps the shield of familiarity had helped ease the way the others would scold him, but here, here he has no familiarity. This team was not his, not in the way the Foxes had become and it was a shock to him to realise even that. It seemed Neil wasn’t the only one to find a family in the ragtag group of orange.   
  
He kept half his words pressed behind his teeth here, didn’t let his temper loose and didn’t overstep. It felt like a cage of his own making but the ever there presence of the Moriyama’s noose let him think he was only doing it to survive. He couldn’t afford to get traded away this early into his career. He had to make it work here, for himself, but also for Neil and for Andrew. Their hopes of someday being on the same team depended on them proving themselves invaluable enough to even slightly dictate where they sign. One day they might be a package deal, but right now Kevin was alone here, trying to give birth to a future for them all.   
  
So he ignored Donovan when he looked and he ignored the worst of his teammates stumbles. He rolled his eyes when he was teased for his lack of expected snark and he offered just enough input to his coach so as not to seem unwilling to contribute to the team as a whole. He knew he was no longer what his team had expected when they signed him, but his playing didn’t suffer. Keeping the physical separated from the mental was always something he was good at. He kept his observations professional, emotionless, polite. When Neil had asked him if he’d pissed anyone off that week he’d laughed and pretended it didn’t hurt. He told them all the ways he thought his team could improve and let them believe he told his teammates the same things.   
  
In some ways, he got along with his teammates better this way. It was easier to join in with the joking in the locker room, it was easier to let Aisling bring him into her fold. His teammates were the type of friends the Nest would never have allowed, the type of friends he knew he was supposed to be making in the real world. He didn’t smile but sometimes he patted backs and knocked shoulders. Sometimes he pressed his teeth together so hard his jaw never stopped aching.   
  
He hadn’t accepted any invites to go out with the team since he’d arrived. He’d told them it’s because he doesn’t have the time. He’d pretended that he was too tired from practices and that he had other things that he simply must do. He’d told them next time, thanked them, and claimed it wasn’t really his idea of a good time. He’d told himself it was safer, that he shouldn’t go near a bar or a club but he didn’t tell them why. He’d pretended until all his reasons didn’t seem like reasons anymore, until the lure of a dark room and bodies pressed together wasn’t itching at him.   
  
He missed Edens. He missed the way the place would feel almost alive against his skin, the music thrumming through his veins. He missed watching Nicky dance like he had no care in the world, missed how different Aaron could become with a few drinks in him and the freedom to let go. He missed the dark corners of the club that Andrew would push him into, mouth hot against his throat. He missed the way tension slipped from Neil's shoulders as he threw his head back and laughed, hands trailing up the inside of Kevin’s thigh under the table.   
  
He missed them so much that it stole the air from his lungs every morning, and rendered him mute every night where the sound of even his own breathing was like thunderclaps in his deserted apartment.   
  
He didn’t know why he did it. There was nothing different about the day than any other, a practice that ran slow and sluggish, at the end of the week. When one of the dealers asked him to come out with them that night he said yes. The stunned silence that followed his acceptance showed just how little anyone expected him to agree. He idly wondered for a moment why they kept asking when he kept refusing but didn’t let the question linger.   
  
There was a bark of laughter from next to him, where he was shoving his feet into his shoes and he turned to raise an eyebrow up at Aisling. She had her hands clasped together like all her birthdays had come early and that mischievous shine in her eyes was so achingly familiar, reminding him so much of Nicky.   
  
“Did I hear that correctly?” She asked gleefully, before spinning round to the room at large. Most of the team was already on the way out of the common area but were now paused.   
  
“Are you really finally actually coming out with us? Its only taken what, a decade of asking?”  
  
She was as much of a drama queen as Neil.   
  
“You’re exaggerating.” Kevin scoffed. “I don’t have anything else to do tonight.”   
  
“You never do anything Day.” Aisling rolled her eyes. “You’re like a little grandma in a Greek gods body.”   
  
Kevin didn’t blush easily, growing up with every inch of you being picked apart saw to that, but he hid any reaction in a scowl anyway. He ignored her grinning maniacally next to him, turning to the dealer who’d extended the invite to start with. She looked a little shell-shocked.   
  
“What time Denzie?”   
  
“Oh,” Denzie looked around briefly at the rest of the team before looking back at Kevin. She was shorter than him and when he stood up to shoulder his bag she had to look up. “Eight? Unless you wanna meet us for food first too?”   
  
“I have a call to take tonight, but eight is fine. Text me the directions?”  
  
“Oh no!” Aisling cut in, skidding a little on her feet to plant herself in front of him as he made towards the exit. The rest of the team was starting to leave now, conversations picking back up around them. “I’ll pick you up.”  
  
“I can make it to a bar on my own,” Kevin said a little defensively.   
  
“No doubt,” Aisling smirked, “less concerned about the how than the actually happening. I am so close to having the great Kevin Day in a bar with me that I can practically smell the cheap beer that will undoubtedly get dropped on you by a rabid fan right before she throws her thong at your face.”   
  
There were a few disgusted noises from around them and Kevin blinked once, twice, stunned.   
  
“That was…specific.”  
  
“I’ve been waiting a long time for this moment.”  
  
“For someone to throw their thong at me?”  
  
Aisling punched his arm and laughed, throwing her head back like he’d made a joke.   
  
“Day, you make my day, ha, get it?” She giggled once before the hand she had punched him with settled on his bicep gently, her whole demeanour shifting in an instant. Her face softened and she leaned into him a little closer, dropping her voice.  
  
“You sure you’re okay with this though? You’ve been pretty adamant about not socialising with us up till now.”  
  
“It's not,” Kevin balked, feeling shame creep up over him hotly. “It’s not about the team.”   
  
“It’s something though. I’m a closet fan remember, I know you weren’t a complete shut-in at PSU.”   
  
There was something too cunning in her eyes, a glint too close to understanding and Kevin felt incredibly seen in that moment, like with one dilation of her pupils she could piece together all of his secrets. Maybe he should tell her. He’d learned long ago that his fight with sobriety wasn’t something he needed to be ashamed of. The long road of recovery had only been made tolerable because of the people around him. Neil and Andrew but the other Foxes too. He’d become closer with all them because of it. There were things that his partners could try to understand but would never really be able to. There were nights when only Matt could keep the bottle from his hand because he knew the draw of an addiction, when only Aaron’s steady presence at his side could let him exist in a club without shaking. The feeling of being understood, and constant reminders that it was possible to come out of the other side. The girls were always there with a distraction, a shoulder.   
  
He hadn’t told anyone on his pro team. The thought had never crossed his mind. Maybe that was a foolish oversight. He’d been told so many times how important it was to have a support system, people to watch out for you. He had Andrew and he had Neil. He had always thought that with them it would be enough. It was enough but…but they weren’t here now.   
  
Something must’ve had shown on his face, a tremor running over his skin, because Aisling’s brows furrowed and she stepped closer still, squeezing his arm a little.   
  
“Kevin?”  
  
“I don’t drink.” He said, words so soft they barely made it past his lips. Aisling didn’t miss a beat, didn’t show any reaction. Just nodded her head.   
  
“Okay.”  
  
“Okay?” Kevin echoed.   
  
“Okay.” Aisling smiled and Kevin felt the tension he almost never noticed he was holding release.   
  
He smiled a tiny thing back in return, a gratitude he didn’t think he could find the words to express right now flaring in his chest.  
  
“Okay.”  
  
“Text me your address, be ready for seven-thirty and,” Here she stepped back, letting her hand slide free. A wicked grin reappeared on her face as she deliberately trailed her eyes up and down him. “Can you maybe find something to wear that’s not a sports jersey? You look cute and all but no ones throwing their panties at you if you look like you just got out of the gym.”   
  
For a second as Aisling walked away laughing, Kevin forgot that he had anything to miss. 

  
…

When his phone finally rang that night it was already late, later than he had expected, and he flicked it onto speaker before carrying on his haphazard rush around his room to get ready.  
  
“I’m here, I’ve only got like twenty minutes though.” He called across the room as he leaned down to peer under his bed.   
  
_“Hello to you too.”_ Neil snorted. _“Is the romance already dead?”  
  
_Kevin grinned a little as he straightened up. “How was your day honey pie?”   
  
_“Ass.”_ Neil laughed.   
  
_“What are you doing?”_ Andrew asked, voice lilted in curiosity.   
  
“Hello to you too.” Kevin snarked back and had no doubt that if the other man was in front of him he would have been clipped around the back of his head. Though, if the man was in front of him, he probably wouldn’t have used words to say hello anyway.   
  
_“Cute.”_ Andrew scoffed.   
  
“I try.”  
  
_“What are you doing? You’re making a lot of…breathless noises.”_ Neil's voice got suspiciously leering at the end.  
  
_“And banging,”_ Andrew added.   
  
Something warm pooled in Kevin’s stomach, not quite arousal but close. It had been a while since he’d gotten off with them over the phone, neither Neil nor Andrew were particularly fond of it, but while it paled in comparison to the real thing, Kevin found he wasn’t adversed to the idea of being told what to do over the line. A brief fleeting thought of calling his night off rose and he abandoned his search to walk back closer to where he’d perched his phone.   
  
“What do you want me to be doing?”  
  
_“Don’t fish.”_ Andrew tutted, but it wasn’t loud enough to completely cover the startled little sound Neil made. Neil had come a long way from the boy who didn’t swing, and nowadays even the hint of either of his partners expressing desire got him going.   
  
“Neil?” He teased, letting his voice drop in the way he knew the redhead liked.   
  
Neil didn’t even hesitate, a feat all on its own that spoke volumes about his comfort levels in their relationship now.   
  
_“I want you bent over begging us to let you come but twenty minutes isn’t long enough to make you a writhing mess on my tongue first so…”_   
  
If Kevin tried really hard he thought he could smell his brain frying and short-circuiting. His throat went dry in an instant and he groaned lowly, reaching to adjust himself in jeans automatically.   
  
_“I’m sorry,”_ Neil said smugly, _“Were you trying to tease me?”  
  
_“Andrew has been a terrible influence on you.” Kevin scowled.   
  
Andrew made an amused sound. _“You started it, Day.”_   
  
_“Are you hard?”_ Neil asked, sounding far too amused by the concept.   
  
“Jackass.” Kevin hissed, taking a deep breath and willing his arousal to cool back down. “I can’t go out in public with a hard-on.”   
  
_“Shame.”_ Neil hummed. _“So you’re going out?”_   
  
“I’m going to a bar.” He said, forcing himself to continue his search through his clothes to try and find the jacket Andrew had chucked at him one day, his most common way of giving gifts. “Do you have my leather jacket?”  
  
_“Nope, I have my own, remember? Is it in yo—”  
  
__“Which bar?”_ Andrew cut across them.   
  
“I don’t know the name, Donovan usually chooses I think. Aisling’s picking me up so I really need to know whether Neil stole my jacket, again.”  
  
_“I did not take—”  
  
__“Kevin,”_ Andrew said. If it were anyone else it would have been a snap, a yell, but Andrew didn’t need to raise his voice to be heard and both Kevin and Neil were silent immediately. He wondered briefly whether he’d actually clapped his hand over Neil's mouth as he was prone to doing. A beat passed with nothing, and Kevin itched where he’d frozen in the middle of his bedroom.   
  
_“Which bar?”_ Andrew repeated.   
  
Kevin forced himself to take a slow breath. “I really don’t know the name, Andrew. It’s not far, the team goes there all the time apparently. It's a sports bar I think? They watch games, dance, drink. Pretty standard, tamer than Edens.” If Kevin was aiming for reassuring then it was the wrong thing to say.   
  
_“So your teams taking you out to get you drunk.”   
  
_“Andrew.” Kevin bristled. “That is not what I said. Besides, I’m an adult, I don’t need your permission to go out.”   
  
Andrew snorted and Kevin heard rustling, maybe Neil moving closer to Andrew.   
  
_“We trust you,”_ Neil spoke up, though his voice was muffled like he was further away from the phone. There was the sound of furious whispers and an irritated sigh that set Kevin’s temper flaring.  
  
“Well, clearly one of you doesn’t.”  
  
_“I don’t care what you do, Day,”_ Andrew said flatly, and it was the absolute lack of inflection that told Kevin that had been a lie. He’d gotten better in the past year at letting things slip in his tone, at not being so unreadable to the pair of them. When he resorted back to blankness, it was a sure sign something had gotten under his skin. It was unfortunate that he was also getting under Kevin’s skin.   
  
“Neil do you, or do you not have my jacket?” He spat, hurt and impatience settling in his chest. The easiness of the moments before evaporated. Hadn’t he spent months proving that he could be trusted? That he was trying to do better? He hadn’t slipped in so long now.   
  
_“I really don’t but Ke—”  
  
_“Then I need to go look for it.”   
  
Neil snarled in a way that was all annoyance. “Stop interrupting me, I didn’t even do anything.”   
  
No, he hadn’t. There was the sound of a door slamming and Kevin didn’t flinch, wouldn’t let himself feel guilty when he hadn’t done anything but intend to try to bond with his new team. Hadn’t that been what everyone had wanted so badly at Palmetto? Fuck Andrew for making Kevin feel bad for trying.   
  
“Go calm him down before he falls off that roof.” Kevin sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.   
  
_He’s just worried.”_   
  
“I will be fine. It’s just a night out and last I checked, my team isn’t the one who made a habit of forcing narcotics into people.” It was a cruel thing to say, and a distant part of him was glad Andrew wasn’t there to hear him say it.   
  
_“Kevin!”_ Neil snapped and his anger was a tangible thing down the line. _“I know you’re pissed but that was—”  
  
_“The truth.”  
  
_“Stop. Talking. Over. Me.”   
  
_“Aisling will be here soon. Tell Minyard I promise to be in by curfew and be at least mostly sober.”   
  
_“This isn’t funny Kevin. Don’t you dare hang up—”  
  
_Kevin stormed over to his phone and ended the call with a sharp press to the screen, and took a second to hold his breath lest it escaped him in a scream. That last remark had been unfair but his anger sparked viciously through his veins. He knew Andrew's particular brand of worry was often disguised under a need to appear unaffected, but the feeling of not being trusted, it sunk through Kevin’s skin and bones and found a home in his chest cavity. It hurt.   
  
His phone vibrated in his hand and he rejected Neil’s call, once, twice and the third time. A text came through almost immediately after and for a second he considered not reading it, before tapping the screen.   
  
**I don’t think you should go out tonight. Not when you’re angry. Call us.** _   
  
_Had Neil already gone after Andrew? Were they both sitting on the roof, pressed side by side. Did _ us _ really mean us? Or was Andrew too busy smoking his cigarette, already disinterested in whatever Kevin decided to get up to that night?   
  
He ignored the text as he carried on looking for his jacket (he found it thrown under the cushions of his window seat and for the life of him didn’t remember how it got there), as his apartment buzzed with Aisling’s arrival. He debated leaving the phone behind before shoving it into his jean’s pocket. He let a mask slip over his face as he walked the stairs down to outside, letting Aisling slide an arm into the crook of his elbow and lead him to an awaiting cab. It vibrated once more on the journey and he angled the screen away so Aisling couldn’t read over his shoulder.  
  
**Don’t be stupid.   
  
**That one was from Andrew and it was even more infuriating in its demand than Neil’s.  
  
He shoved the phone deep into his pocket and resisted the urge to curse. His foot tapped restlessly as they drove and he pretended he couldn’t see the looks Aisling was throwing him. Whatever expression was showing through on his face was proving enough to keep her from prying and distantly he was grateful. There were no words he could give her that would be safe.   
  
The bar they pulled up in front of didn’t look like much from the outside but proved heaving as Kevin followed Aisling through the entrance. Not as dimly lit as Edens, it felt warm and more inviting. Decorated in warm wood and deep colours, it was about as homely as a bar could get. A thumping beat of music was playing but it wasn’t as deafening, easily drowned out by the wave of cheers the rest of the team let out as they approached the table that had been claimed at the back.   
  
They were the last ones to arrive and Kevin endured a round of fist thumps and greetings before sliding himself into a chair near the side. The place was already a mess of half started drinks and the smell of alcohol was cloying in the tight area. The tabletop was shiny with spilled drinks under the low light. He could feel his pulse beat in his throat as he swallowed, fingers itching against his knees as the people closest to him took a round of shots.   
  
“Hey,” Aisling nudged him in the side and Kevin startled from where he has been staring at the open bottle of vodka in the middle of the table. “Drink?”   
  
For a second he was sure she was referring to the open bottle and he had to dig his nails into his leg to keep a strangled noise from escaping his throat. Maybe Andrew had been right in his concern, maybe Kevin couldn’t do this…  
  
“_Hey._” Aisling prodded again, leaning closer and waving a hand in front of his face until he turned to look at her. “They do this amazing mocktail here where they line the glass with popping candy. Share one with me?”   
  
So taken by surprise he scoffed before he could think.   
  
“Do you have any idea how much sugar is in something like that?”  
  
Aisling beamed. “A Lot. I’m going to get a pitcher, a big one. ”   
  
“I’ll have water.” Kevin shook his head, doing nothing to conceal the look of sheer disgust he must be sporting.   
  
“One_ extra large_ pitcher and one water.”  
  
“No,” Kevin tried to argue, failing to grab her wrist as she giggled and turned away in the direction of the bar. “Aisling!”   
  
He sighed heavily and let himself flop back into his seat, half watching his teammates around him. Every single one of them had some type of smile on their face, joyful and content in each others company and happy to relieve some of their stress. Edens used to be his stress relief until after; after Neil, after Andrew. Most things about Kevin’s life could be defined as after something. After the nest, after Riko. After that first kiss where Neil had to cling onto his shoulders to reach and after the first time Andrew knotted his fingers into the back of Kevin’s hair and told him mine.   
  
Would tonight become another after? After Kevin couldn’t keep his temper in check, after they finally tired of his issues for good?   
  
“Hey.”   
  
Kevin startled for the second time and expected to find Aisling grinning at him from behind a pitcher of diabetes, but instead, Donovan sat in the abandoned seat. He looked awkward, like he himself was surprised by where he had found himself.   
  
“Hi?” Kevin answered and he could feel several sets of eyes flick over to the pair of them.   
  
His team weren’t even subtle sober and with a few drinks in them, the interest in watching their captain interact with the Raven was obvious. It was obvious to Donovan too as a moment later he turned to the rest of the table and raised an eyebrow at them. Cowed murmurs broke out, but the attention was quickly diverted.   
  
“Come to the bar with me?” Donovan turned back to him to ask. “I could use a break from the noise.”  
  
Kevin didn’t think it would be any quieter up front but didn’t think the offer was meant to be optional and followed obediently as Donovan weaved his way through the crowd. People pressed into them from both sides and for a quick second Kevin had to remember that no one in this crowd wanted to harm him, that riots didn’t break out in bars.   
  
“What do you drink?” Donovan threw over his shoulder as he leaned on the bar to flag down a server. “The beer on tap here is pretty good.”  
  
“Aisling’s already getting me one.”   
  
Donovan threw him an unimpressed look. “So I can’t get you one too? Come on, why else bring the Captain on a night out if not to shake him down for free booze?”   
  
There was nowhere to sit on this end of the bar so Kevin settled for leaning his hip against it, crossing his arms in front of his chest defensively.   
  
“Water then.”   
  
“Nothing stronger?”  
  
Kevin stayed silent against the odd look Donovan gave him but the man eventually just shrugged, appraising Kevin for a second before turning away once again to order. He indeed did order a beer for himself and Kevin kept himself lent away from the bitter smell that drifted from it. He rolled the bottle of water in his palms when it was handed to him, the cool condensation chilling his fingers.   
  
“What do you want Donovan?” He asked after a couple moments of silence, impatient yet accepting of where his night was clearly going.   
  
Donovan rolled his eyes from behind his glass before putting it back down a little too hard, the sharp bang pronounced.   
  
“You have a real chip on your shoulder, you know that?” He didn’t sound angry which was worse. He simply sounded resigned.   
  
Kevin grit his teeth but wasn’t given a chance to respond.   
  
“You’ve been different lately.”   
  
“Different?”   
  
Donovan nodded his head and glanced at their team off to the side. They were loud but bubbly, overspilling with the type of companionship that should come with spending as much time together as the team did.   
  
“With them. You’ve been, well not nice, but less,” he waved his hand in a gesture.   
  
“Less…” Kevin prompted.   
  
“You.” Donovan settled on eventually.   
  
Kevin’s feet twitched with the urge to turn around and leave. He couldn’t see where Aisling had gotten to from his spot and he was rapidly becoming sure this wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have. Surely once was enough? Surely he didn’t deserve having his flaws pointed out at every turn?   
  
“I just mean,” Donovan said in a rush like he could tell exactly what Kevin was thinking. “You’ve been less offencive with the team and it’s been noticed okay? I don’t think it comes easy to you and I wanted to tell you that its appreciated.” He hesitated there, reaching for his glass but not taking a drink.   
  
“I want you to do well here with us, we all do. I’m sorry if I gave you the impression otherwise.”   
  
“Aisling spoke to you.”   
  
It wasn’t a question but Donovan nodded all the same.   
  
“She had a few words to say yeah.”  
  
“I’m fine.” Kevin offered and unscrewed the lid to his water just for something to do with his hands. “Playing is the only thing that matters and as long you’re willing to let me do that, we don’t have a problem.”   
  
Donovan paused with his glass halfway to his mouth and then put it down again, eyeing Kevin with a look he hadn’t seen since Nicky had left for Germany.   
  
“You don’t really think that? Being on a team is about more than just playing. We want—I want you to make friends here.”   
  
“I don’t need friends to play.”   
  
A frustrated sound huffed out of Donovan and he stepped a little closer to Kevin.   
  
“I know what it’s like to not get on with the people I play with, and it sucks. This game, it can’t be enough if you don’t have people around you too.”  
  
A vicious tug pulled on Kevin’s stomach and it took everything to not let his hands shake. He had people, he had Neil and Andrew. At least, he thought he did. Who knew who he had now? Who knew what he had ruined with his careless words.   
  
“I have people.” He said and Donovan’s eyes narrowed at how strained his statement came out. Maybe he could hear how Kevin was trying to reassure himself of a fact he was no longer sure of.   
  
“You can have people here too. Just, you can talk to us okay? To me, if something is wrong.” He reached out a hand and tentatively placed it on Kevin’s shoulder. “Is there anything wrong?”   
  
It was an olive branch, one Donovan felt awkward giving, made clear from the way he couldn’t really hold eye contact with Kevin as he said it. He didn’t know if it was because the offer was only born out of obligation or if he was simply uncomfortable offering aid, but it stalled Kevin all the same.   
  
There was nothing he could say to these people, was there? He could tell no one about his deal with the Moriyama's, his history with the Yakuza and everything that came along with a life debt to the mafia. He couldn’t tell people about Neil and Andrew and how his heart felt like it would cave in with every second he was away from them. He was Kevin Day, the son of Exy. He was meant to be unflappable, dedicated and single minded in his focus. He was meant to be better, always better, always more.   
  
He shrugged Donovan’s hand from his shoulder and ignored the deep thrum of guilt.   
  
“Nothing is wrong.”   
  
He didn’t think Donovan believed him, for the man frowned deeply, opening his mouth maybe to argue, maybe to scold him; but Aisling chose that moment to latch herself around Kevin’s neck, a sparkling bright burst of laughter cutting through the dropping mood.   
  
“Come on, drinks on the table and you are having at least one Mr.Day!”   
  
It was the easiest out Kevin was going to get and he took it with desperate hands, letting Aisling pull him along by the wrist even as he could feel Donovan’s eyes boring into the back of his skull. 

  
…

He only pulled his phone out once again that night, hours later. There was so much he wanted to say, so much he didn’t know how to put into words. He wanted to say he was sorry. He wanted to say they hurt him. He wanted to make them understand what it felt like to feel doubted by them and he wanted to thank them for always trying to watch out for him.   
  
Instead, he sent both of them a picture just after midnight, a bottle of water with the word ‘_s__atisfied?’ _ underneath it and pretended resorting to pettiness wasn’t a step backwards.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This past week has been so ridiculously tiring that i wasn't sure i was going to have time to finish this chapter but here we are and i'm just the littlest bit proud of myself for sticking to my upload schedule. Thank you to anyone who has carried on liking and commented and popping by to read, you're all so very appreciated! 
> 
> As always and forever, thank you to Essence29 for checking over my ramblings and always being there to inspire new ideas :)
> 
> (The Italicised section is a flashback just in case that isn't clear :) )

He ran because it reminded him of Neil and because the slap of his feet on the ground almost drowned out the suffocating silence around him. He couldn’t be in his apartment for long and he knew that was all kinds of fucked-up. Exhaustion was the only thing that allowed him to get to sleep, even if that sleep was far from restful.

His nightmares were getting worse again. There was a time at Palmetto, the first few months after Riko died (murdered, Riko was _murdered_ and he didn’t deserve—) that nightmares were the only type of sleep he got. He remembered waking, screaming. Kevin was a deep sleeper usually but Andrew and Neil were not. That first night, he didn’t know who woke up more afraid, him or them. They hadn’t berated him though, hadn’t told him to be quiet. They hadn’t told him he was wrong either when he eventually found the courage a couple of weeks later to tell them what his nightmares were about. They had known before he even told them, even if they would never say it. The lack of judgement from them was the only thing that allowed him to talk through it, to bring what haunted him into the light of day and work through it.

Nightmares centred around Riko and blood and the echo of a gunshot eventually ceased, helped and soothed by the presence of Andrew and Neil. As their relationship grew his bad nights became far and few between. They never went away completely, but eventually, Kevin was able to sleep without the fear of what he would find behind his eyes. Sometimes he felt guilty about it. He knew neither Neil nor Andrew managed to shake their demons off so easily. Their nightmares were undoubtedly filled with more horrors than even Kevin’s subconscious could conjure and some nights, when he had to watch them struggle through fear and panic, he felt like a cheat for getting to finally sleep peacefully again.

He couldn’t remember what night they returned, whether it was the first week, the first month, but so quickly they felt like they had never left. Sometimes it was still Riko he dreamt of, a favourite his mind liked to throw at him, but most nights he dreamt of them. Horrid things that left him sweating and breathless when he woke, fist pressed into his mouth to try and stop the rolling of his stomach.

He woke the first morning after his fight with them and wanted so desperately at that moment to call them that he nearly choked on it. The feeling was quickly swallowed with a blanket of sickening shame and guilt. He didn’t deserve to reach out to them, not for this. Not for comfort when he had behaved so poorly the night before.

His thoughts were scattered the entire rest of the day. With no practice to distract him the empty corners of his apartment were stifling and oppressive. He spent so little time there now that he barely ever took in what the place looked like. He wasn’t a messy person but the unpacking he promised himself he would finish had been left abandoned. Nothing ever made it to his shelves and the boxes of books tucked away behind his couch mocked him.

He went grocery shopping in the afternoon just to have a reason to leave. He told himself it was a necessity and not a thinly veiled attempt to outrun the deafening silence. He put things into his basket on autopilot. He was halfway around the shop before he realised he’d added in a bag of the dried fruits Neil liked, and couldn’t bring himself to put it back.

He always avoided going anywhere near the alcohol aisle when he went shopping. It was a temptation he didn’t need to put in front of himself and he’d learned that having to avoid your triggers didn’t make you weak. He kept his eyes far away from it but when he was loading his meager supplies onto the belt there was a bottle of cheap vodka nestled between some carrots and a carton of chocolate ice cream. He couldn’t bring himself to put that back either and he packed them into a bag like a dirty secret, sure his cashier could see his years of sobriety drowning in the clear liquid.

He didn’t open it that night, just buried it in the back of the freezer (he put Andrew’s ice cream in another drawer, the sight of them side by side felt like a knife against his ribs).

He sat in the dark of his living room after, the flicker of car headlights lighting his apartment up for brief moments before sinking away. He tried to find somewhere, anywhere inside his chest that could tell him he wouldn’t open the bottle, that he only bought it because he was distracted. Old habits die hard but it didn’t mean he had to give in to them. He repeated it to himself over and over and pretended that his eyes didn’t flick to the doorway of his kitchen with every flash of yellow light.

…

The inside of Kevin’s car was blessedly cool after the afternoon's practice. It had been brutal from the start, a spark lighting in the team as their first match drew closer by the day. It was the type of practice that Kevin craved. Everyone pushing, everyone yearning.

It had been three days since he last spoke to either of his partners. It might as well be three months for the sick feeling it left in Kevin’s stomach. Hindsight was a blessed thing and he knew that he shouldn’t have sent them the photo, along with the sarcastic message. It was childish, though somehow he couldn’t find it unjustified. Neither one of them sent any sort of reply and it hurt, though he knew he only had himself to blame.

A litany of mistake, mistake, mistake had been going around his head constantly and the feeling of incompetence wasn’t an unknown one. He was always bound to end up here, wasn’t he? Sitting alone, his partners hundreds of miles from him and probably cutting Kevin from their lives as he stuttered over just picking up the phone.

He ached to hear them. He wanted them to tell him they were not mad. He wanted to hear them say he hadn’t ruined everything by letting his pettiness get the better of him. He’d been too afraid to call either of them since he’d woken up the morning after, not hungover, but feeling just as destroyed.

Fights weren’t something that happened all that often between them, at least, not real ones. Neil was the most aggravating little shit Kevin had ever met and he never hid that opinion from him. He didn’t listen and he infuriated Kevin to no end. Neil thrived on pushing Kevin’s buttons, in pushing back and antagonising him. He knew that from the outside some of their spats seemed vicious, seemed angry, but it was more than that. Neil and he pushed because when they pushed they made each other better. When they pushed they reminded each other of what they could achieve, what they had achieved.

Passion was something present in both of them and it came out in weird ways sometimes but it never mattered, because they were passionate in all parts of their relationship. What did it matter if sometimes their friction on the court led to raised voices when it also led to better footwork and bruising hands in the showers?

Fights with Andrew though, they were a completely different beast. He wasn’t sure anyone else would even consider them fights. Andrew didn’t yell, didn’t storm around or throw things, didn’t let himself get coaxed into the whirlwind of furious emotion that Kevin would. It was worse somehow. He would stand there, impassive, until Kevin burned himself out, all his irritation drained away and his chest left heaving. It’d be then that Kevin could stop enough to really look Andrew in the eye, and all he would be able to see there was disappointment.

He wondered if Andrew was disappointed in him now. He’d come to expect more of Kevin, a sentiment Kevin still wasn’t sure he deserved, a faith he didn’t think was justified. But maybe it was no longer.

He thought about sending the man a text but he knew that was the coward’s way out of this. He knew Andrew would see right through him and wouldn’t answer. He wasn’t sure he knew how to condense everything he knew he should say into a handful of characters anyway. Calling, while not exactly easier, at least let him hear how Andrew would react to him.

If he reacted to him at all. The sharp fear that Andrew would decide he wasn’t worth the effort anymore was achingly familiar.

The sound of waiting for a call to connect was almost as bad as the swirling pit of nerves in Kevin’s stomach. He almost expected Andrew to not answer, but the line was picked up after only a couple of rings as if the phone was already in Andrew's hand. The idea of Andrew waiting by his cell for Kevin to find the courage to call was ridiculous, but regardless, he couldn’t help but let the thought fill him for a brief moment.

The first soft brush of Andrew's breath down the phone forced Kevin’s eyes shut and he let out his own slow breath in response. For a small singular moment, Kevin could let himself believe that Andrew was in the car with him, curled into the passenger seat as he would in rare times he’d let Kevin drive. He’d tuck his feet up onto the seat and lean an arm out the open window, head pillowed on the crook of it. His hair would move softly in the breeze, and it often took all Kevin had to keep his eyes on the road instead of the sight of Andrew's profile illuminated in the sun.

Neither of them said anything for almost a full minute and Kevin knew he should go first since he was the one to call, but he couldn’t. His tongue felt stuck to the roof of his mouth and all his words were trapped behind it. He didn’t know if he couldn’t force out an apology because he knew Andrew hated to hear them or because he was afraid it wouldn’t be accepted.

“_I hope you were overcharged,_” Andrew said eventually, and he sounded as bored as always, bland even in the face of whatever tension they were currently suffocating in.

Kevin was so thrown and confused by that being the first comment that it loosened his tongue without thought.

“What?”

He was met with only another long stretch of silence though and he huffed a little, wiping a hand over his face. There were so many words he could say, so many paths he could try to take, but they all stalled when he tried to start them.

“Should I have not called?” He forced himself to ask and pretended he didn’t half-hope there was a way to escape a conversation he had started.

“_I don’t control what you do._” Andrew replied, then, a beat later. “Clearly.”

“Where’s Neil?” Kevin settled for asking instead, because an antagonistic Andrew wasn’t something he thought he could deal with on his own. Not when his insides were turning themselves inside out.

“_His class just finished._”

Kevin waited to see if anything else would be forthcoming but the line stayed silent.

“I can go if you don’t want to talk to me.”

“_What do you want Kevin?_”

There were so many things Kevin wanted that for one suffocating moment he couldn’t move with the weight of them. The moment passed quickly, but the first lungful of air stabbed in his chest painfully.

“I wanted to talk to you.” He offered weakly, honestly.

“_About?_” There was no inflection in Andrew's tone but by now that was more telling than the alternative.

“Andrew.” Kevin sighed. “I’m trying.”

Andrew just hummed.

“You don’t like apologies.”

“_I don’t need an apology._”

“What do you need?” It was a dangerous question to ask, surely one Kevin should keep to himself with the volatility between them but it slipped out regardless. He almost expected Andrew to hang up but the line stayed connected.

Another minute passed in silence and Kevin sighed, shifting in his car seat to find the button to tilt the seat back. The plastic creaked as he got comfortable and he hissed a small noise from between his teeth as his back settled. Practice really was a bitch that day, and as always he was feeling it across his shoulders.

“_Where are you?_” Andrew asked.

“Stadium car park.”

There was a beat of silence and then, “_Why?_”

“I wanted to talk to you.” Kevin repeated, but this time his voice came out sounding almost wistful.

“_And you couldn’t do that at home?_”

“Practice was tiring.” Kevin shrugged even though he couldn’t be seen.

“_Your car seats are cheap._” Andrew scoffed, but it made the first smile of the call tug at the corners of Kevin’s mouth. It was easier now, after so much time, to hear concern hidden in Andrew's voice.

“I won’t be here long.” He promised. “Andrew?”

“_Kevin._”

“I shouldn’t have gone.”

“_You can go wherever you want, Day,_” Andrew rebuffed, calmly.

“I shouldn’t have gone after we fought.” Kevin corrected.

“_If that’s your idea of a fight…_”

“Andrew.” Kevin sighed across him. “It was something and I don’t,” He stumbled a little then on the end of his sentence. He didn’t want to fight, not with Andrew, and not with Neil. There was so much space between them physically, he didn’t want that distance to press into any other part of them as well. He had to do better, had to be better for them, had to hang onto this with both hands even if he had to cut himself bloody to do it.

“_It wasn’t a fight,_” Andrew said over the rush of breath, probably the lighting of a cigarette.

“What was it then?” Kevin caged, worrying his lip between his teeth.

“_It was what it was,_” There was the far off sound of a door opening, and Kevin could just about hear Neil call out a greeting from the hall, no doubt chucking his sneakers in a way that both Andrew and Kevin hated.

“Are we okay?” Kevin breathed, feeling all at once that he was running out of time; in this conversation and maybe at all.

“_Go home,_” Andrew ordered, and Kevin could hear the rustle of clothing which meant Andrew was moving around. A door opened and Kevin could hear the faint sounds of a shower being turned on. Andrew always ran the water to get it warm, while Neil made tea in the kitchen, a little ritual Kevin used to be apart of when all their classes got finished for the day.

A stab of sadness pitched through him and he found it hard not to let it settle.

“Okay.” He conceded, pulling his seat back up into a better position for driving. He turned the key into the ignition and ignored the burn in his throat. Practice always made him dehydrated, and if he focused on that he could ignore everything else.

“_Day._”

“Yeah?” He hoped his voice sounded as level as he wanted.

“_Give us an hour and then call back._”

Kevin swallowed heavily. “Are you sure?”

There was a whisper of noise that almost sounded pained, far away, like the phone had been moved.

“_Kevin,_” Andrew said in the same tone he used when he was trying to convince either of them that their nightmares weren’t real. “_We’re okay._”

The relief that rushed through Kevin was strong enough to make the world feel unsteady underneath him. He hadn’t ruined anything permanently. Yet.

He still had time.

…

_“You want to go where?”_

_“The movies.” Neil chirped, bouncing on the balls of his feet._

_Kevin looked at the class notes spread across his desk and then the clock hanging on the opposite wall, a frown creasing between his eyes._

_“But we have night practice soon.”_

_“So we’ll skip it.” Neil shrugged like it was nothing, like it wasn’t a routine they hadn’t altered in months._

_Kevin had been buried in an essay he had to write for his European history class for the past two hours while Neil and Andrew had only been home for the last thirty minutes of it. Neil had dropped a kiss to his head as he had passed and Andrew had shoved a water bottle in his face, but both had escaped to the bedroom quickly. Suspiciously quickly, now that Kevin wasn’t engrossed in cross-referencing sources. It was a red flag that was now waving him in the face._

_This wasn’t a random whim but a plan._

_“But—” Kevin tried, but Neil reached forward with one foot to spin Kevin’s chair around entirely._

_“It’s one practice Kev. The world won’t end.”_

_Kevin couldn’t help but bristle. “We have a game in two weeks.”_

_“Yep.” Neil popped the word. “That’s a whole…twelve to fourteen more nights to practice, so tonight is not going to matter.”_

_Kevin frowned more deeply. Facing Neil more fully let him see that in the time they had been sequestered away, Neil had showered and changed. He wasn’t wearing the get-up Andrew usually bought him for Edens, but he still looked nice. Really nice. He was wearing the pair of dark, grey jeans that Kevin liked on him the most, the ones that made his thighs look ridiculously nice._

_As if reading his mind, Neil stepped forward until his legs were brushing Kevin’s knees. Kevin raised his hands automatically, broadcasting his movements and Neil nodded easily before Kevin rested his palms over the fabric, running over the muscle with a small hum. When he glanced back up, Neil was grinning widely._

_“Okay there?”_

_“You’re wearing the shirt Andrew likes.” Kevin noticed._

_“Am I?” Neil had the audacity to look smug._

_“You’re a hazard.” Kevin rolled his eyes, before slipping his hands around Neil to grip his ass and pull him closer. Neil went easily, sliding into Kevin’s lap and curling his arms behind Kevin’s neck. He was warm, always so warm when he let Kevin hold him close._

_“This is a date.” Kevin accused softly, staring up into Neil's blue, blue eyes. “You want to go on a date.”_

_“I want to go on a date.” Neil nodded. He leaned forward, nudging his nose against the tip of Kevin’s, and hummed happily when Kevin’s eyes fluttered closed in response. “I’ve never gone to the movies.”_

_“You go with Matt all the time.”_

_“No,” Neil huffed, “I’ve never gone to the movies like how you’re supposed to have gone.”_

_“Supposed to?” Kevin blinked his eyes open and leaned back a little to look Neil in the face. He looked nervous then, the thrumming excitement of earlier overshadowed by an anxiousness that made him bite into his bottom lip. Kevin untangled a hand from Neil's waist to reach up and pull that lip free, running his thumb softly over the reddening skin._

_“What are you supposed to do at the movies?”_

_Neils shrug was self-conscious. “I don’t know. Share popcorn? Sit in the back and make out?”_

_“You’ve been watching those television shows with Allison again.” Kevin accused._

_“Kev,” Neil said over a sigh, and it made Kevin feel like an asshole._

_“We can go,” Kevin said quickly, re-tightening his arms around Neil and pushing his face into the younger man's neck. He smelled like the fancy cologne Nicky had bought him, something both Kevin and Andrew secretly appreciated a lot._

_“What about practice?” Neil argued and it sounded the smallest bit teasing again._

_“Fuck practice.” Kevin mumbled into warm skin._

_Neil laughed bright and brilliantly, head going back and body vibrating like the small live wire he was. He was the spark that had helped reignite Kevin, the bombshell that had rocked the Foxes and Monsters alike. He was everything and never enough. Kevin tightened his hold and promised himself he would find a way to never let go._

_“Hey,” Neil whispered softly after his laughter had died down, bringing his lips not an inch away from Kevin’s. “Kiss me?”_

_Kevin wasn’t a strong enough person to resist the lure of an offer as sweet as that._

_Kissing Neil was an experience Kevin didn’t think he would ever tire of. His mouth was warm like the rest of him and his lips were always a little rough where he chewed them, but that only meant Kevin got to soothe them with his tongue, licking along the seam until Neil opened to him like a flower opening for the Sun. Kissing Neil could be bruising, but these kisses, these slow ones, they were the best. They made Kevin tingle from top to toe. They made him want to hold on with both fists and not let go, not stop until the tiny breathless moans Neil made were the only thing he could hear._

_Neil wriggled on his lap, pushing forwards until their chests were pressed tight together, and Kevin groaned a little into the kiss as Neil's hips squared up with his. He ran his palms up the broad expanse of Neil's thighs, delighting in the shudder he got in response and sucked on Neil's tongue until the smaller man was quivering, hands fisted in the shoulders of Kevin’s shirt for leverage._

_“Neil,” Kevin breathed into Neil’s mouth, “Neil, the movies?”_

_“What?” Neil answered sounding dazed and throaty. One of his hands released Kevin’s shoulder only to trail down his chest, reaching the hem of his shirt and slipping under the fabric. The first touch of Neil’s fingers to his skin was electric and Kevin all but bucked in his seat, hissing as it knocked their hips closer together._

_“The movies.” Andrew suddenly spoke up, and Kevin jumped, mouth dislodging from Neil’s on a gasp._

_He looked up behind Neil's shoulder to see Andrew leaning in the bedroom doorway, hip cocked against the frame. There was no way to know how long he’d been standing there and Kevin would have blushed in embarrassment if not for the there, but nearly not, tilt to Andrew's mouth that was all fondness. His arms were crossed in disinterest but Kevin could see the tension he was holding, which let him know he’d been there for at least long enough to have watched them._

_Andrew always liked to watch them._

_“Movies.” Neil echoed, sounding thoroughly breathless but bright again. He turned back to Kevin and smirked. “You need a shower.”_

_“Alone.” Andrew added before Kevin could even open his mouth._

_Kevin turned a surly glare on the other man that had obviously no effect._

_“Spoilsport.”_

_Andrew only snorted and headed across the way into the kitchen, likely to fill his pockets and probably theirs with sweets to pilfer into the theatre._

_The feeling of Neil dislodging himself from Kevin’s lap had him pouting in disappointment but he let himself be pulled from his seat all the same._

_“Come on,” Neil grinned wickedly. “The sooner we go, the sooner you can feel me up in the back row.”_

_Kevin returned the look with a heated one of his own, pulling Neil in by the hand for one last kiss or three, whole body alight with something he was only just starting to put words to. He wanted this, Neil, Andrew, them. He wanted it forever._

...

He didn’t remember when this became a thing, but a thing it had certainly become. Early Wednesdays he finished morning practises, took his shower, changed into clean clothes and found himself pulled along by Aisling and pushed into the passenger seat of her car. It was a ridiculous thing, especially since Kevin had spent his last years at Palmetto in Andrew’s overpriced Maserati. He was sure if Andrew ever saw the nauseatingly bright shade of yellow he’d have a conniption.

It was admittedly nice though, having somewhere to be that he didn’t have to decide on himself. Finding the will to do anything except drive to practice, was slowly becoming harder and harder. Aisling had a knack for finding coffee shops with the best coffee and, even though he rarely partook, the widest selection of sugary pastries. The nostalgia he got from seeing her scarf down a cake in three bites didn’t hurt now as much as it did at the start.

“So,” Aisling popped the word from her mouth and leaned her chin onto one hand. There was sugar all over her fingers but she didn’t look like she cared about getting it in her curls. “Do you have a girl, Day?”

Kevin let his drink fall slowly from his mouth without taking a sip. “What?”

Aisling wiggled her eyebrows at him. “A female? Do you have one?”

“No?”

“A guy then?” She countered without hesitation.

Kevin stared at her blankly, but she only stared back, still dancing her brows weirdly. It wasn’t unusual for their meetups to end up with Aisling trying to prise information from him but this was the first time she’d ever shown any interest in his love life. Though, he wondered if that was on purpose. She certainly wasn’t shy about hers. Kevin knew more than he ever needed to about the sexual habits of her fiance, and all the ways she quote ‘rocked his world on the nightly’.

The silence stretched for long enough that Kevin thought the matter dropped and bought his drink back to his lips, vaguely thinking he preferred the last place they went. This coffee shop made their drinks a little on the cooler side whereas—

“A dildo? Come on Day, tell me you’re getting some somewhere?”

Kevin choked on his drink so forcefully he felt the foam shoot up his nose. Aisling’s delighted laughter was all smug and he glared at her as he snapped a napkin from the table to hack into, wincing at the raw feeling of hot liquid in his windpipe.

“Maybe that’s why you’re uptight,” She mused when he finally managed to stop coughing, face now so red it was hard to tell if it was from the near asphyxiating or embarrassment. “You _aren’t_ getting any. Need me to get you a dildo?”

“Stop saying that!” Kevin hissed, scooting himself lower into his seat even though the coffee shop was too packed for anyone to be able to hear them. The last thing he needed was the word dildo and his name to make it onto some Exy gossip site, especially when he knew the Foxes would pick up on it the second it was published. They were like bloodhounds for scandalous information, the whole lot of them.

Aisling tutted impatiently, removing her head from her hand to wave it around. “I wouldn’t need to if you’d just gossip with me.”

Kevin hesitated. Despite the teasing tone to her words, Aisling’s face was sincere. He wasn’t sure when he had grown able to read the woman, but he knew just by looking at her eyes that she wasn’t looking for gossip with the intention to share. He realised then, startlingly, that it was because they were learning to be friends.

He took a deep breath and wondered why it felt like he was about to dive off of something very high. Maybe this was what Andrew felt when he stood on the roof of Fox tower.  
  
“I’m not alone.” He admitted and it was only once the words were out of his mouth that he realised he’d never discussed ever telling anyone on a team they played with about them. They hadn’t spoken about it before Kevin had graduated, and it had never crossed his mind since. It’d seemed to go without being said. Admitting to any sort of relationship except a straight one, especially in the current culture of sports, was a risky, let alone publicising a polyamorous one. Kevin’s and Neil’s literal lives depended on them having long and successful careers and the wrong rumour, at the wrong time, could derail that permanently.

Aisling didn’t look surprised. “Vague. Details.”

“I’m not telling you their names,” Kevin said quickly, keen to minimise the secrets he shared out in the open. His mistake didn’t register until her eyes lit up like Christmas lights. In his haste to protect their identities, he’d let slip the only other part of their situation that mattered.

“Their? As in more than one?” Aisling said gleefully, unaware of the panic that had started to crawl up his throat and wrap around his windpipe.

“Kevin Day, do you have a rotating harem here in our fine city? I didn’t think you had it in you!”

“_No._” He said shrilly.

“So open relationship? How very modern of you.” Aisling mused before a small frown appeared between her eyes. “Er, Kevin, you alright? You’re kind of turning blue? Which is impressive considering how red you were not 0.3 seconds ago.”

“I am not in an open relationship.” He wheezed.

He should stop, let her believe what she wanted because it didn’t matter. What other people thought about him didn’t matter but; but what they thought about Neil and Andrew did. Even if she didn’t know who they were, he couldn’t stand the thought of her thinking, even in abstract, that Kevin was in any way not committed to both of them. They deserved more than that.

She looked at him then more curiously, tilting her head a little to the side. “Breathe.”

She sounded nothing like Neil or Andrew, not even in tone, but the familiar order still helped him to draw in a breath. He took a couple more, keeping them even and slow like Betsy had taught him. His panic hadn’t had a chance to clutch him fully, so his chest fell into a steady rhythm quickly, though the uneasiness didn’t leave as readily.

“Polyamory,” She mused when Kevin assumed he no longer looked on the verge of a breakdown. “Fascinating.”

Kevin didn’t know what to do with that except stay silent.

“And that makes you happy?”

“Yes,” Kevin answered with no hesitation. “I think it makes us all happy.”

“You think?”

“I would never presume to speak for them.” Kevin shrugged, ignoring the itch in the back of his mind that cackled with doubt. “They deserve their own opinions.”

He didn’t tell her that the answer to that question was something he wondered himself. That the possible outcomes to asking a question like that often kept him awake into the early hours of the morning. Could you make someone happy when you were away from them so completely, for so much of the time? They made Kevin happy, he wasn’t lying when he said that, but Andrew and Neil were better men than Kevin was. Kevin didn’t know if he was enough to transcend distance and a seemingly endless reel of time.

Aisling leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms and tapping one finger to her chin. “You continue to surprise me Day, not something easily done I might add.”

Oddly enough, Aisling sounded almost proud in that moment, a sentiment that Kevin didn’t know what to do with.

“Are we done then?” He dodged instead, staring forlornly at the meager remains of his coffee, most of it now having been saturated in a pile of napkins.

She grinned at him wickedly. “Almost. Do I know them?”

“No.” Kevin shook his head.

“So I guess just one question then. Which way does our famous striker swing?”

Kevin swallowed but kept his eyes steeled.

“I’m bi, but my partners are both men.” He should have felt scared to admit that out into the open, afraid as always at the implications of being anything but straight in the public eye. He kept his voice quiet, pitched low so no one but her could possibly hear, and only felt relieved. He hadn’t told anyone outside of the Foxes except for Jean and Jeremy, and the feeling was foreignly liberating.

“Intriguing.” Aisling reached out, lightly tapped the back of his hand where it was fisted on the table. He hadn’t even noticed that.

“Your secrets safe with me.” She promised. “Okay?”

“Thank you.”

A genuine smile graced her mouth until it slowly stretched into a smirk and Kevin felt his stomach plummet. So close, he thought.

“So, about acquiring that dildo, was that a yes or a no?”

Kevin felt his blush heat his face all the way to his hair and thumped his head on to the tabletop to hide it, groaning in embarrassed defeat. Aisling laughed above him, reaching out and ruffling his hair roughly.

“You’re so easy to mess with Kevin.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter gave me a lot of grief which is why it's a couple days late, which i'm a little annoyed about but hey, at least its done! As always, thank you for any and all kudos and comments! It makes crappy weeks like my last so much more bearable :) 
> 
> And Essence29, thank you as ever for taking the time to edit my work and continuing to discuss the intricacies of Kevin Day with me every other night, even though you sometimes make me want to cry with your heartbreaking (brilliant) ideas!

He couldn’t breathe.

He couldn’t breathe and he couldn’t blink, couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight of the scoreboard above.

They’d lost.

_He’d_ lost.

The stands in the stadium were alive with noise, deafening cheers and shouts of victory but it was muffled by the overlaying sound of the final buzzer replaying in his ears. They’d lost the first match of the season, Kevin’s first professional game with his new team.

Ichirou was going to kill him.

He couldn’t help but think it and it nearly sent him to his knees, the instantaneous fear that he had already ruined a life he hadn’t yet gotten a chance to live in all the ways he wanted. He wanted more time. He wanted to turn back the clock and snatch back all the moments that threatened to prove the two on his cheek was right after all.

It was only one point. Almost nothing, except they had been at a tie right up until the last five minutes of the game, battling for a lead the whole second half. The opposing team had made their winning shot less than a minute before the buzzer had rung, stealing the ball from Kevin’s team when they failed to make their own goal. When Kevin had failed to make his own goal.

This was Kevin’s fault and he knew that with a clarity that made his stomach drop even before his shoulder was rammed into viciously.

“What the hell?” Aisling hissed, pushing into his space. She had already ditched her helmet and racquet which left her hands free to clench at her sides, face crimson with not only exhaustion but fury.

Kevin resisted the urge to step back, reaching up to unclasp his helmet with unsteady hands.

“We lost!” Aisling snapped when Kevin’s face was free.

“I know, I was here.”

Aisling visibly bared her teeth, taking a step closer to him and gesturing up at the scoreboard.

“One point! One point all because_ you_…” She jabbed a finger into his chest plate sharply. “Why the fuck didn’t you pass to me?!”

This wasn’t the place for a confrontation but Kevin couldn’t find the will to walk away from her. She was right but he bristled all the same, standing up to all the inches he had on her.

“Don’t blame me because I took a shot and it failed. Maybe if you’d have found an opening of your own we wouldn’t have been tied so long to start with.”

It was unfair. Unfair and a complete lie because she was right and he knew it. His shot failed because he had never been in the right position to start with, had thrown the ball with too many players in-between him and the goal.

“I had an opening! All you had to do was pass to me but instead, you took that stupid shot.” Aisling spun herself in an aborted circle and ran her hands up through her hair.

“I’ve been trying so hard to give you the benefit of the doubt but then you pull shit like that. What is it, didn’t think anyone but you could possibly score the winning point? They only got possession and scored because of you, you know that right?”

He did know. He felt almost sick with the knowledge that he had cost not only himself but the rest of his team the first match of their season. He had seen she was open, had known with barely a thought what moves and steps he would have to take to get the ball to her but…but he hadn’t trusted that she could read him. If it had been Neil—if Neil were only here, if only he wasn’t alone—he wouldn’t have hesitated to pass and know his ball would be caught. He hadn’t trusted Aisling and he’d cost them the match.

“Nothing to say?” Aisling snapped, hands coming to her hips. “You know what—”

“Hey!” Donovan suddenly pushed in-between them and it was only then that Kevin realised they had the attention of most of their team and half of the opposing’s.

“Stow it.” Donovan shoved a hand up in Aisling’s face when she went to argue. “_Now_. This is not the place. Line up and at least pretend you know how to lose graciously.”

Aisling’s scowl clearly said that she wanted to do no such thing but she turned on her heel all the same, trudging after the rest of the team for the obligatory handshakes.

“You too, Day.” Donovan ordered, staring Kevin down with eyes that shone with his own disappointment and annoyance.

“Your team has no sense of responsibility.” Kevin ground out and pretended he wasn’t a hypocrite. Donovan’s eyes narrowed dangerously.

“_Our_ team,” He corrected, emphasising the word and then pointing a finger where everyone else was waiting for them to catch up. “Go Day, _now_.”

It was his fault but the anger that had sparked from Aisling’s words was the only thing drowning out the pit of panic he could so easily fall into, so he clung to it, gripping his helmet so tight he could feel the bite of it even through his gloves. He didn’t know what he looked like to his Captain, if the tension simmering through him was visible but Donovan was unmoved regardless, staring Kevin down. He was nothing like Andrew, not even close, but Kevin had spent enough time around immovable walls to know when he would only be wasting words trying to fight. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to fight. He only knew he didn’t want to give in his fear. Not now, not here, not where everyone and anyone could see him.

“Yes _Captain_.” He bit and turned his back even as he heard Donovan swear at him under his breath, ignoring the way it seemed to pierce through all his armour to hit.

It was his fault after all.

…

There were no smiles to be seen in the locker room as the team trudged back in, sullen and silent in a way that hung heavily over them all. They hadn’t expected to lose, not so soon. They were a high-rank team made up of players that for the most part had played together for multiple seasons now. Kevin was the newest addition and he knew what had been expected of him, from the team to everyone watching. They didn’t have to like him to know he was good. He was supposed to increase their chances, not dash them.

He entered the locker room with his head down, avoiding all eyes because he didn’t know if he could keep his mouth shut if he didn’t. If he could guarantee only anger would leave him he’d feel safer, in control; but safe is the furthest thing away from how he felt.

A shadow fell over him as he was putting on his shoes and when he steeled himself to look up he half-expected it to be Aisling coming after him for another round. Donovan stood there instead, arms folded across his chest and an impatient look on his face.

“Are you ready?”

“For?” Kevin huffed, standing and shoving his locker closed.

Donovan tutted, rolling his eyes. “The press.” He said like Kevin was being deliberately obtuse. “ Coach told us we were up first after finish. Weren’t you listening?”

No, he hadn’t been. He’d been too busy trying to keep his hands still enough to tie his gloves. Then, before he had any idea of how badly it was all going to go, it had been with the excitement of finally getting play again properly, against an actual competitive team. It had been the same thrumming anticipation that made both his and Neil's blood hum back at PSU, a perfect pair dying to be released on to the court.

Donovan threw his hands up in exasperation before he tugged at Kevin’s shoulder.

“Come on, this way.”

Kevin could barely feel the touch through the numbness he felt, as he was steered in the direction of their press room. He wasn’t ready for this but the fast pace Donovan was steering him with meant he was rapidly running out of choice. He shoved himself out of Donovan’s grip as they approached the door, their coach waiting for them and eyeing them with a suspicious look.

“Finally,” She gestured for them to hurry forward. “Did I not say immediately after showers Day?”

She might have, he didn’t know, but he nodded all the same.

“Don’t think I didn’t see that little performance you all put on at the end out there. I won’t tolerate in-house fighting, especially out in public. I’ll be having words later.” She leveled Kevin with a stony scowl and it made Kevin miss his father with a sudden stab.

“Keep it short, keep it civil.” She directed her attention over to Donovan. “Ready?”

“Ready.” Donovan’s whole demeanour changed, all tension dropping and a soft but sure smile replacing it. He looked every inch a Captain, steady and confident.

Kevin felt his own press facade settle over him like he was wearing clothes three sizes too small; tight and suffocating, cutting into him as he moved.

The press room here was bigger than the one at the Foxhole, set up for bigger interviews and more professional news crews. They had a small table for them to sit at, a barrier between players and the rabid faces peering up at them that Kevin was grateful for. He kept his smile firmly in place as he took his seat, practised movements helping him appear at ease in a room full of sharks waiting for blood.

The noise was a growing rumble as reporters shouted over each other to get the chance to ask the first question but Donovan was all grins as he greeted them, relaxed as he waved a hand at a random choice.

“How do you feel after your devastating loss today?” The guy asked, the exaggerated way he emphasised his words instantly grating on Kevin.

Donovan chuckled lightly. “Devastating? We’re all disappointed surely in the end result but it was a close match nearly the entire way through. I’m proud of my players for putting up a hell of a fight. A one-point loss is hardly a slaughter and next time we will be the ones to push through.”

“Your team hasn’t lost a first match of the season in years, what do you think accounts for that?”

“We played against a well practised and dedicated team today. Every team has their losses and today was ours.” Donovan paused here and grinned cheekily. “I guess we got it out of the way early on, we have a whole season now to kick ass.”

There was a wave of light laughter and Kevin couldn’t help but be impressed at the easy way Donovan handled himself. He didn’t look intimidated, didn’t look uncomfortable. He was well practised at dealing with press by now and it showed in the calm way he stared back at them.

“You have a new starting line this year, do you think it hindered your team's chances?” A woman spoke up loudly from the back of the room and Kevin felt a wave of dread rise up.

“The additions to our team this year are only proving to be positives.” Donovan deflected.

“And yet you lost.”

Kevin could feel a minute tick of annoyance run through Donovan where they were sat close together.

“I’m sorry, was there a question there?”

The reporter smirked, eyes flicking over to Kevin.

“Kevin Day, do you feel like you were a positive in today’s match?”

Kevin had been trained to deal with the press for a time so long passed he didn’t remember when he wasn’t fielding microphones and cameras. Riko and he were paraded around like prized ponies for what felt like every second of their childhoods, always learning, always expected to get better. They weren’t allowed opinions of their own, weren’t allowed to speak their own words. Every smile they gave and every fake laugh was a calculated step in designing their image.

It was like a Halloween costume they were never allowed to take off. Not until he had come to Palmetto had he been able to learn to shed it, to use his skills without being drowned by a persona he didn’t want to fit into. It fell over him now though easily, like slipping back into a well-worn coat.

“I think everyone tried their hardest today and that is all anyone could ask. We played against skillful players and I’m content with how well we held our ground.”

“Hhmm, yes,” The lady hummed, toying with the pen in her hand. “But do you feel you performed to your best of your ability? We all saw you fumble that last goal.”

“Not all attempts succeed.” Kevin offered.

“And the reason you didn’t pass to your teammate? Aisling Watts? She was open, everyone in the stands could see that.”

Kevin dug his nails into his knee but smiled a little, tilting his head. “I didn’t. In the rush of the moment, one hopes you can see all available options but that isn’t always the case. I made the best decision in the moment.”

“Could it be that you and Watts do not work well together?”

A small frown marred his forehead. “Watts and I have been playing together for only a short time but she is an admirable player.”

“So why didn’t you pass? Your missed goal clearly cost your team the game.”

“Is it because she is a female player?” Someone else shouted and there was a titter of uneasy whispers.

“Gender has no bearing in Exy.” Kevin rebuked.

“During your games at university you showed an innate ability to know where your other striker was at all times, often passing and receiving balls in impossible angles.”

“Every match and team needs a learning curve—” Donovan tried to cut in but was quickly drowned out.

“What do you say to the people who theorise that you can’t perform to the same standard without one of your partners supplementing your talent?”

“Partners?” Kevin felt the room slowing down around him, a fear he hadn’t expected to feel filling him. No one was supposed to know about Neil and Andrew…

“At PSU it was Neil Josten, before that, Riko Moriyama.” The journalist listed and Kevin felt his stomach fall out below him at once from both relief and dread. He pulled his hand close to his chest so fast he jostled the table, causing Donovan to flick his eyes to him, turning curious when he could clearly see Kevin holding his hand protectively.

“That’s,” Kevin’s throat felt suddenly parched. “I mean to say that I,”

Donovan cut in then, “Teamwork is a necessary part of all of Exy and especially so with Strikers. I have every faith in all of our players and their ability to not only perform but continue growing as teammates. Cohesion comes with time and practice and my Strikers are devoted to putting that time in. I expect things to only get better as we go on from here.”

“And if Kevin can’t perform without his pair? Maybe the covering of his number two was premature?” The journalist asked around a sneer, looking Kevin over with a look that showed just how much they wanted to push his buttons and get a reaction. Kevin felt ice run down his spine and opened his mouth, not sure what was going to come out. Rage against the accusation that he hadn’t fought tooth and nail to prove he didn’t belong in someone's shadow or something wounded and hurt because hadn’t he been thinking the same thing himself?

“That’s enough!” Donovan cut over before Kevin had the chance to decide, reaching blindly to grip Kevin’s forearm even as he glared at the journalist. Kevin hadn’t even noticed that he was halfway to rising out of his chair.

“Kevin is a valuable addition to our team and will continue to be a positive influence on all of our players. Today’s match was a disappointment but one we will rise up to beat next time. There will be no more questions.”

The swell of voices fighting to be heard was deafening and Kevin struggled to keep his footing as Donovan hauled him to his feet, all but pushing him out the room. The noise was stifled as the door closed between them and the press but Kevin could feel it ringing between his ears all the same.

“Jesus,” Donovan sighed heavily. “Are they always like that with you?”

Yes, Kevin thought but didn’t say, opening and closing his mouth with no sound. He couldn’t speak, didn’t trust that if he opened his mouth something he didn’t want to share wouldn’t come out.

He needed to not be here.

“Hey, wait,” Donovan made a move as if to grab Kevin but he was already walking away, feet loud on the tiled floor as he pushed his way back through corridors, only slowing to grab his bag still sitting in front of his locker. The rest of the team had already moved to the meeting room they used to debrief in and it let him slip through unnoticed. He needed to go, leave, get away from here.

Sneakers squeaked on the floor as Donovan skidded after him, jogging until he could wedge himself between Kevin and the door.

“Don’t leave.” His eyes were filled with concern, all of the anger from earlier dissipated. “What’s wrong? I know the press sucks but they’re just trying to get a rise out of you. Don’t let them.”

Kevin squeezed his hands around the strap of his bag and refused to meet Donovan’s eyes, staring at the doorway behind him. He was so close to fresh air and maybe then he would be able to breathe.

“Kevin, talk to me.” Donovan urged, reaching out a hand to him.

He didn’t mean to flinch but he did, startling back so hard there was no way to hide it. Donovan’s eyebrows rose in surprise and he pulled his hand back slowly, raising it in a calming gesture.

“Okay, okay,” He said gently and Kevin hated it. Hated that he could be seen through so easily, hated the sympathy he could now see in his Captain's eyes. He wasn’t afraid of Donovan but the urge to protect himself was roiling through him, making his muscles tremble with the need to move, to flee.

He needed to leave.

“I need to leave.” His voice was thin and weak, just like the rest of him.

Donovan stared at him for a moment, eyes roaming over Kevin’s face, for what Kevin didn’t know. He must have found it though for he stepped to the side without another word. Kevin hesitated for only a second, pushing through the door like he had fire on his heels, making for his car in only a few long strides. He nearly dropped his keys as he shoved them into the door, did drop them as he tried to insert them into the ignition and fumbled blindly by his feet to find them.

His phone started to ring in his bag as he finally got his car to roar to life but he couldn’t spare the time it would take to dig it out. He need to get far away from this stadium, his team, everyone.

The journey to his apartment usually took him twenty minutes but he pulled up to the curb in less than fifteen. For all his desire to move, move, move he stalled as he turned the car off, breath coming out in hard pants like he had been running. His phone hadn’t stopped ringing the whole trip and he dug it from his bag, bringing the screen to life and winced. There were five missed calls from Wymack, seven from Neil and one from Andrew.

Guilt made him feel nauseous. He didn’t want to talk to anyone and yet he wanted to be left alone even less. He was keenly aware in that moment of how little he had spoken to Wymack since he’d moved away. It hadn’t been intentional, hadn’t been something he’d planned. He had wanted the opposite. When he had been leaving Palmetto they had finally started to get to a place where they were bonding, forming a relationship that extended past that of a coach and player. He wanted Wymack in his life and was learning to believe that he was wanted in return.

He pressed dial and leaned his forehead on the steering wheel as it rang.

“_Kevin._”

The rough growl of Wymack’s voice was so achingly familiar that he had to take a shaky breathe lest it came out as a sob.

“Dad.”

There was a sharp inhale of air and Kevin realised a beat later that that was only the second time ever that he’d called Wymack ‘Dad’, the first being the day he had left Palmetto, standing at the curb of Wymack’s building with Neil and Andrew idling in the car down the street. It had almost hurt coming out then, emotion thick in his voice and aching for something he hadn’t had in years. A parent, a real parent, someone of his blood who wanted him just the way he was.

“_You’re okay, son,_” Wymack assured him, voice strong.

Kevin didn’t think that was true. He wasn’t sure he remembered what being okay felt like, if he could find his way back to the easy contentment he had started to feel that last year with his family.

“You saw?” He asked instead.

“_I did._”

He didn’t know whether to feel warm that his father had been watching his first game or ashamed that he had had to watch him fail so spectacularly.

“Were they?” He asked even though the answer to that was evident by the other missed calls. Wymack didn’t need him to clarify who he meant.

“_Yeah, of course they were. We all watched in the stadium lounge. Even Nicky and Aaron sat in._”

If it was meant to make him feel better it didn’t work. He knew it should, that the reminder that his old team, his friends, cared about him enough still to watch his game should be comforting. It only made him feel embarrassed.

“We lost.” He mumbled, pressing his head further into the steering wheel until he could feel it imprinting against his skull. “I lost.”

“_Yeah kid, you did._” Wymack didn’t beat around the bush. “_But it was only your first match, cut yourself some slack._”

“I can’t afford to make mistakes.”

“_Everyone makes mistakes. You’ve lost games before and you survived, you’ll survive now. The only way is up and you’re the best damn striker there is._”

Kevin snorted but it sounded suspiciously wet. “Don’t let Neil hear you say that.”

“_That brat would say the same thing and then shout it from the rooftop._”

Kevin could only hum to that, unable to deny it even though he struggled in that moment to find the confidence warranted. Praise, genuine praise born from care and love and not expectation was something he still rarely knew what to do with. Every facet of the media crowed over and over about his skill but the sort of praise he got from his partners, that he got from Neil, was different. It was an awed praise, a praise rooted in who Kevin was as a person and not a commodity.

“_Kevin,_” Wymack interrupted his thoughts and he sounded sad. “_I saw the press conference too,_”

He left his sentence open-ended and Kevin could imagine how uncomfortable the older man probably was, fidgeting in that way he did when he was trying to connect with Kevin and his Foxes.

“They were right,” He sighed. “I lost us the match. We should have won.”

“_You’re still settling in, you have to give yourself time. It's a big adjustment._”

“I don’t have time to adjust.”

“_Kevin,_” Wymack said a little more fiercely, “_You have time. One match won’t make or break your career._”

No, but it might be the tipping point in the scale weighing the worth of his life.

“I have to go.” Kevin nearly choked, forcing his head up and running a hand over his face to try and grasp at the quickly unraveling threads of his anxiety.

“_Call them._” Wymack urged him. “_You aren’t alone Kevin._”

And wasn’t that a complete and utter lie.

“Bye Coach.” Kevin said softly, hanging up the call before his dad could even respond. There was a shake to his hands that he didn’t think ever really stopped from the second the buzzer rang as he climbed out of the car. The walk up to his apartment felt both yawning in distance and too quick. Too quick and he was barricaded back inside walls that felt more like bars than a home. There was no home there, no family to fill the voids and no warmth to chase the cold.

He wanted to call Neil. He wanted to hear Andrew. His feet carried him to the kitchen instead, shoes clicking on the floor until he hit the freezer. There was an itch under his skin that he thought he’d long dugout. It flared to life like an inferno when he uncovered the bottle of vodka, the freezing glass barely registering against his palm. The itch to drink until everything in his head was muffled as being submerged underwater was fierce. He laid it on the counter but kept one hand on it, fingers toying with the yet to be broken seal.

It wouldn’t take much effort, barely anything at all. One sharp twist of the cap and then a quick swallow. Just the one. Just the one and his head would be clear. Just one and his nerves could settle. Just one and—

The sound of his phone ringing startled him, vibrating against his other palm where he hadn’t registered he was still gripping it. There was no surprise when he looked down and saw Neil’s name. The irrational and hysterical part of him was instantly terrified, terrified that his partner could tell from miles away what was sitting not a few inches away from him. He dropped his hand away from the bottle like it had shocked him. It took the same amount of effort as shifting stone to lift his finger and press accept, putting it on speaker when the thought of raising his arm felt insurmountable.

“_Kevin._” Neil said in a rush, voice filled with anxiousness and raw worry. “_Are you okay?_”

Kevin swallowed thickly. “I’m alright.”

“_Don’t lie._” Andrew’s voice was tiny from distance. Kevin was on speaker too.

“_The press had no right._” Neil cut straight to the point, frustration evident.

“They don’t need one.”

“_You’re not there to be attacked Kevin._”

“They weren’t wrong Neil, we lost and it was my fault.”

Neil made a wounded noise. “_Kevin—_”

“_Don’t say stupid things._” Andrew interrupted and there was the sound of a horn blaring, the screech of tires.

“_Slow down Drew._” Neil urged softly.

Kevin frowned. “Where are you?”

“_About half an hour outside Palmetto._”

Kevin’s brain fizzled slowly, unable to process the information. “Why?”

There was an annoyed tut from Andrew and what sounded like a muffled curse from Neil.

“You’re coming here.” Kevin realised slowly, a dawning understanding that should have made him feel happy, excited, something positive. It only made him glance quickly to the vodka still sitting almost innocently on the counter. “You can’t.”

“_We already are,_” Neil argued like it was nothing.

“Neil—”

“_Kevin._” Andrew drawled his name at length in the way he did when Kevin was being difficult in his eyes. It was a tone Kevin was used to, one he’d slowly learned to associate with a desire to calm Kevin down and not to belittle him. It didn’t have the desired effect today.

“You can’t.” He snapped, fear quickly morphing into irritation. “You have a game tomorrow.”

“_You are more important than a—_”

“I said no Neil!”

There was the violent screech and grind of tires skidding and gravel sliding. A knot quickly rose in his throat and he almost called out in worry until he heard the sound of the Maserati’s engine being switched off, the surrounding traffic becoming faded in the distance.

“_Andrew?_” Neil said in confusion and Kevin pictured them pulled over on the side of the road, a blip of colour against the otherwise grey of the asphalt.

“You can’t leave campus right now.” Kevin forced out.

“_Ask me if I care about one insignificant Exy game, Day._” Andrew said in a flat voice and Kevin couldn’t help but bristle.

“I care.”

“_And we care about you._” Neil tried to smooth over the fraying edges of their conversation.

“I didn’t ask you to come.” He wanted to, he wanted to with a desire so strong it could consume him. He wanted them by his side and in each crevice of his life but his shame was stifling his want. He couldn’t let them see him, not until he had gotten himself under control. Not until he could be trusted to do better, be better.

“_You don’t need to, Kev,_” Neil sounded pained. “_I know you’re upset about today…_”

“You don’t know anything.” He couldn’t help but snarl.

“_Then fucking enlighten us,_” Andrew ordered him and it was like a match to all of Kevin’s nerves.

A noise trapped somewhere between a growl and a sob tore from him and he lashed out at the nearest thing to him. One of his barstools crashed to the ground as his foot connected, clattering against the ground with a ring of metal on tile that was almost satisfying.

“_Kevin!_” Andrew barked over the line and Kevin was struck with the urge to hang up, to not hear whatever words were meant to soothe the panic that was quickly tearing its way through him. His anxiety morphed into anger, a blanket he could fold around himself so he wouldn’t have to be seen. He didn’t want to be soothed, he wanted to burn as brightly as a dying sun and he wanted the total numbness that would follow.

“_Be quiet,_” Andrew ordered and Kevin had to grind his teeth to keep in the vicious things that he wanted to let out behind his teeth.

“I didn’t say anything.” He managed to bite out through them.

“_You don’t need to,_” Neil answered, voice thick with concern. “_We know how you think._”

Kevin snorted an ugly sound. “Do you?”

He could hear Andrew move, a sharp shuffle that hinted at frustration. “_Stop._”

“_Just breathe._” Neil took a long loud breathe, letting it out slowly before taking another. “_Breathe in Kev._”

“What’s the use in that? I lost the first game of my pro career!” Kevin snapped, spinning in a circle and was tempted to take the other stool down. His chest felt too tight and too big all at once.

“_Stop,_” Andrew told him again and he, too, took a deliberate inhale and exhale.

“_Breathe in._”

The repetition of instructions was infuriating but familiar. Simple instructions, repeated until Kevin could calm down enough to follow them. It was a technique they’d learned through trial and error, through many days of Kevin’s stubbornness and temper getting in the way of sense.

Stop. Breathe.

“Fuck you.” He hissed but it was weak. He ran his hands through his hair until they were laced behind his head. The pressure on his skull was a welcome thrum of discomfort when he didn’t trust his hands to be free. His anxiety was a slithering presence in his body and he hated how it turned him into knots, hated how it always seemed to either bring him to his knees or make him lash out. Always at the people who didn’t deserve it, always the ones he least wanted to hurt with his cruelty.

He took one conscious breath and held it, trying to quell the stuttering in his chest.

“_That’s it,_” Neil encouraged him, softer now. “_Just breathe._”

“_Stop. Breathe._” Andrew echoed.

“Stop,” Kevin copied shakily, quietly, jaw aching and he forced muscles to unclench. “Stop.”

“_Who are you?_” Andrew asked him when Kevin could take air without it sounding like a wheeze, when the fire trapped inside his veins wasn’t an inferno waiting to scorch.

“Kevin Day.”

“_Who are we?_”

“Andrew Minyard and Neil Josten.” Safety and security and home, home, home.

“_Where are you?_”

That question stung in a way that almost threatened to undo him all over again. He wasn’t where he wanted to be, hadn’t been in the place he felt whole for what felt like eons.

“My apartment.”

“_What are you going to do?_”

“Breathe.” Because there was nothing else he could do, was there? He couldn’t fold himself into Neil's arms nor could he bury his face in Andrew’s chest. He could only stand there in the middle of an apartment that was his but not theirs, trying to find a way to air without them.

“_Breathe._” Andrew and Neil said together, not an order any longer but a lifeline. Not something to distract or disregard his terror but a phrase that was theirs. A promise that if they could do just that one thing for each other, just take one proper breath even when everything seemed hopeless, they could get each other through anything.

Kevin took that breath, lungful after lungful until he could drop his arms and feel safe enough not to tear into the bottle still standing on his counter. He inhaled and let his shoulders drop, exhaled and let the tension fear was seeping into his body dissipate.

I want to go home, Kevin thought and took shaky steps until he could collapse onto his sofa, every part of him now exhausted.

“I’m sorry.” Is what he said instead.

Andrew tutted but it wasn’t a cruel sound.

“_Are you sure you don’t want us to come?_” Neil offered, hesitant like he was afraid to set Kevin off again.

“You still have a game.”

“_Kevin._” Andrew warned.

“It wouldn’t make me feel any better if you guys lost because of me as well.” Kevin sighed, bone tired and miserable.

“_It was one game._” The way Andrew spoke almost sounded flippant but Kevin knew how to listen between his words. He wondered how Andrew would respond if he told him how much like Wymack he sounded.

“I know, I just…”

“_You wanted to win._” Neil finished for him. “_It’s okay to not be perfect Kev._”

Kevin snorted. “Is it?”

“_Yes._”

He sounded so sure of himself. Kevin wondered when Neil had stopped seeing Exy as his only lifeline. He wondered why he found it so hard to do the same.

“_You made the wrong choice._” Andrew told him and Kevin flinched even though he knew it was true. “_Don’t make it next time._”

To Andrew, it really was as simple as that. When properly motivated to participate his insights were often invaluable to Kevin and Neil. His sharp eye and perfect memory astute at cutting through to the crux of their issues. It wasn’t a reprimand nor a criticism, but a fact.

Kevin took a long, slow pull of air, placing a hand on his chest to feel it expand and release.

“Okay.” As if it were as simple as just deciding.

They stayed like that for moments, minutes, maybe even longer. A silence settled that wasn’t entirely comfortable but was comforting all the same. If Kevin closed his eyes he could almost pretend they were next to him, that he could reach out a hand and clasp one of Neil’s in his own or feel the brush of Andrew’s fingers against his neck.

“_How’s your hand?_” Andrew asked eventually, breaking the silence and Kevin looked down at where his fingers had settled into a loose curl in his lap. It never stopped filling him with warmth whenever he was reminded about the care that Andrew showed both him and Neil, the way he always remembered and catalogued the things that had and could hurt them.

“_Kevin?_” Neil encouraged when he didn’t answer.

He swallowed hard. “It’s okay. It rarely hurts anymore.”

Sometimes though, in his dreams, blood ran free down his skin again and the bones burned with the imprint of Riko’s heel.

“_You switched to your right._” Andrew said and it sounded like a simple observation but Kevin felt himself go cold all the same.

“I did?” He knew he had, knew that the phantom ache of an injury long healed had made him want to clutch his whole arm to his chest to keep it safe. It had taken so much time to able to attempt to score, he hadn’t been able to get close for so long and all he had been able to hear in his head was Jean telling him he’d never play again.

“_About halfway through the second half._” Neil clarified and he sounded so thick with confusion and concern that Kevin hated himself.

“_You never switched back._”

That they noticed that from quick camera angles showing an even quicker game made Kevin feel both safe and suffocated. What else could they see? Could they see the trembles that still broke out over him at the thought of playing without them? The ugly flashes of anger that drove a wedge so thick between him and his teammates that he couldn’t get a grip long enough to work with them?

“I didn’t mean to.”

“_It’s alright,_” Neil soothed. “_Its better to be careful._”

They were so often so incredibly and surprisingly soft with him. He couldn’t pinpoint the moment that it had started but it was true now, especially when it came to his hand. He remembered practice and games alike, where Andrew would pull him aside after, sometimes right there on the pitch if he was particularly concerned. He’d ease the glove from Kevin’s hand, exposing it to the air and turn it at all angles, calculating. Fingers would press into the joints and seams, gentle but steady in their probing and testing. If Kevin so much as winced once Andrew would notice. Back at the dorms, he’d find himself seated with ice pressed over the area, the seeping cold contrasted with the warmth of Andrew’s hand holding him still.

“It doesn’t hurt, I promise.”

There were so many things that hurt, but his hand just wasn’t one of them.

“Tell me what I did wrong.” He rushed out before either them could say anything else.

_“Kev,_” Neil sounded pained.

“_You aren’t letting your teammates defend you_.” Andrew cut in with no preamble, voice carefully neutral in a way that was always soothing to Kevin in these types of moments. No judgement or disappointment, just detached facts.

“_You took risks you didn’t need too, your dealer was there and you didn’t let him help as much as you could have._” Neil added on, reluctance in his tone but he followed suit all the same.

“What else?”

He wasn’t sure if it was Neil or Andrew who made a low sigh.

“_Before you switched hands, you were hesitating, broadcasting your steps._” It sounded like it pained Neil to offer the critique but every word helped Kevin to breathe just a little bit easier. Every flaw was a potential thread for him to pick at and process. He could work on those, he could dissect them until he no longer made the same mistakes twice.

“_You don’t trust your striker_.” Andrew offered unemotionally.

“I don’t need to.”

It was a lie and he knew it, knew how the game worked and had experienced first hand what came from trusting and working with your other half on the team. He’d experienced it with Neil, even with Riko for a brief splash of time where there was no blood or broken bones; just the game and the thrill of a well executed goal.

“_If you ever want to be in sync with each other you do._” Neil argued.

The only one he wanted to be in sync with was Neil and Andrew. He didn’t need a new Striker to bond with or adapt around, he had his Striker. He just didn’t have him right now.

“I’m tired.” Kevin sighed. Tired of being alone. Tired of worrying and hurting, of empty beds and empty arms. He was tired of being tired, always looking over his shoulder for something that wasn’t there.

“_You’ve had a long day._” Neil hummed. “_Do you think you could sleep?_”

Are you calm enough, are you sane enough, have you stopped, stopped being insecure, weak, a burden; words that hadn’t been said and he knew Neil would never think about him, filtered sluggishly across Kevin’s brain all the same.

“Can you stay, just for a bit?” He asked quietly over it all. He turned his body to fall sideways onto the couch, tucking his legs up until he was in a protective ball. He kept the phone on speaker but pressed it closed to the side of his face so when Neil spoke it almost sounded like he was resting below Kevin’s head.

“_Of course._”

“_Go to sleep._” Andrew rumbled gently and Kevin let his eyes slip closed, let their voices wash over him until they lulled him into not a content sleep, but sleep all the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also i highly recommend listening to the song Somebody You Loved by Lewis Capaldi. TheMoonByNight suggested it to me and i have been crying over it ever since because it goes so ridiculously well with this fic in my head and the first time i listened i nearly sobbed at the lyrics!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should i apologise for it being shorter than normal? I don't know, but it is. *shrugs*
> 
> Thank you thank you thank you to the lovely people on Tumblr who post bits of this story and then squeal about it in the tags because you are my lifeblood writing this and i adore you! (Also my Tumblr handle is littlewanderly, slightly different than here if you ever want to come ask me questions or yell at me for doing horrible things to these characters). 
> 
> Essence29, i need to find more ways to say thank for continually editing this but alas i am tired so just THANK YOU in caps :)

_It took most of the day for him to realise what it was he had forgotten. He might not have ever realised at all if he hadn’t let himself be coaxed into the girls’ dorm room for a game night, following on Neil and Andrew’s heels. He’d let the other two men wander off to find their own seat, a pair of beanbags that they immediately pulled close together while he ventured into the kitchen for a drink. Someone, probably Renee, had left a pitcher of something colourful but virgin on the counter and when he took a testing sip it wasn’t cloyingly sweet either._

_By the time he had gone back to the lounge, all seats had been taken and he paused behind the back of the couch, debating just sitting at Neil’s feet or going back for one of their own beanbag chairs, when the Exy channel the television had been left on had filtered through the din of excited chatter._

_It was a memorial segment of a deceased player and today was their birthday. Today had been Riko’s birthday._

_“I forgot.” It escaped him on a bare whisper before he could even think. No one seemed to hear him except Dan, cuddled onto the sofa and only a few inches in front of Kevin. She turned in her seat to frown at him, jostling Matt’s arm off her shoulder._

_“What?”_

_Kevin licked his lips around the sudden dryness._

_“I forgot,” He gestured a hand to where the newscaster was still speaking. “I forgot it’s his birthday today.”_

_That got the attention of all the other Foxes, everyone’s faces turned to look at him and then the television, slowing returning to him. The sheer level of irritated disbelief aimed at him was overwhelming._

_“_Was_ his birthday,” Allison stressed. “And why the fuck should you care?”_

_“Allison.” Renee chastised softly, reaching out a hand and laying it on the girl’s shoulder._

_“What!” Allison scoffed, looking around the room at large before turning her attention back to Kevin. “He _abused_ you. You shouldn’t give two shits about his birthday.”_

_“I…” Kevin tried to defend himself, tried to say that it wasn’t as simple as that, but the words wouldn’t come out. He glanced down at the hands he had unknowingly gripped onto the back of the sofa and realised how deep he was digging them into the fabric._

_“I didn’t…”_

_He didn’t mean it like that. He didn’t care, not really, not how they were assuming he did but—but Riko had been like a brother to him once, family. There was a time when the only person who remembered something as small as a birthday was Riko. Kevin had no family to remember, Riko had no family that cared to. It was an unspoken thing between them on those two days of the year that they would remember. Rarely did it mean they could do anything for it, no gifts or parties; but they remembered, for a while at least._

_Such a small thing, but in a place as cold and sterile as the Nest it was everything for that little time. Riko had forgotten first of course but Kevin, he’d clung to that little bit of knowledge like a small hope that maybe one day, things could go back to how they were._

_Today Kevin had forgotten._

_He inhaled sharply and the room seemed to dilate around him, warping and flexing until his whole body felt unsteady on the ground. Someone said his name but he couldn’t tell who. He heard someone move but couldn’t look away from his hands to see. The scar on his hand was white like lightning against his otherwise tan skin, a reminder of the culmination of all the little moments Riko’s cruelty had ruined._

_“—evin, let go.”_

_A hand appeared in front of him, not touching but blocking his view._

_“Stop it.”_

_His chest was screaming and it hurt to lift his head, to follow the hand up a wrist, an arm, a shoulder, a face. Andrew’s face._

_“Let go,” Andrew repeated, dropping the hand he had used to get Kevin’s attention to hover over Kevin’s fingers._

_“We’re leaving.” That was Neil, standing an inch behind Andrew and looking at Kevin with an expression he couldn’t read. It wasn’t pity or sympathy, but nor was it judgment._

_Andrew’s fingers wiggled the smallest amount above his hands and Kevin let them reach up until Andrew could take them. The room was silent around them as Kevin let himself be led away, or maybe his ears were just too muffled by the white noise screeching through his head. His feet didn’t want to work but between them they didn’t let him stumble, taking him out and away until he could feel cold air blast against his face._

_The roof. They were on the roof._

_Kevin’s feet propelled him forwards and away from Andrew, his hand slipping free easily as he stumbled to the edge, only stopping when his feet scuffed against the lip. For all the air around him, he couldn’t seem to find a breath to take and squeezed his eyes shut._

_“I hope you aren’t going to make me clean your mess up if you throw yourself off that ledge.” Andrew drawled from next to him and it could have been seconds that he followed in or hours, Kevin couldn’t tell._

_“I forgot.” He said. It was the only thing he could say._

_“So you forgot.” And Kevin could imagine the disinterested shrug Andrew would be giving him, the blank-eyed stare._

_“It’s okay to put things behind you.” And that was Neil, close to his other side._

_Kevin shook his head side to side and twitched his feet restlessly. He felt more than heard the pair of them stiffen at his sides but ignored it._

_“It’s not the same thing.” He whispered. “Forgetting and moving on…” He let his sentence trail off. How could he explain it, to them of all people? Moving on and trying to forget their abuse was much the same thing to them, even if it was harder in practice than thought. Abuse was still a word that tasted sour to Kevin, a notion he still had a knee jerk reaction to deny. It didn’t settle right in him, a symptom Bee had told him, that didn’t make the facts any less true._

_Riko had abused him but…but he was still his friend and brother, once._

_“The first birthday I had at Evermore he made me a card.” He offered quietly, unsure of the reaction he would get. “He spent all night making it when he found out because I was upset that my mom wasn’t—she always made me a card. Said it meant more when we used the love in our hearts to create something with our hands. I told Riko that.”_

_There was a lump in his throat that was proving harder and harder to speak around._

_“I never made him one back. I don’t remember why. I kept his though and every year after I used to look at it.” He forced himself to open his eyes, turning to look at Neil and was momentarily distracted by how distraught he looked._

_“You would have found it if you’d looked in the other books. Jean didn’t know it was there but I hid it and—” His voice cracked._

_“Kevin,” Neil made an aborted motion like he wanted to reach out but Kevin flinched, dropping his face back down out of sight._

_“I promised myself I wouldn’t forget who he was when we were kids. I know it doesn’t change what he did but,” A wet sound bubbled out of him and he felt his knees shake. “He was my friend and I was his and _I forgot._”_

_It felt like his chest had speared open as his legs collapsed beneath him and he fell to the ground of the roof. Arms came up across him as he went, slowing his descent and pulling him away from the edge. Air didn’t exist. Time didn’t exist. Nothing existed except the useless pull of his lungs and the sickening grief swirling in his stomach._

_“He’s gone.” He choked and it was only when he opened his mouth and tasted the salt of tears that he realised he was crying._

_“He’s been gone,” Andrew told him, kneeling himself in front of Kevin and looking over his shoulder to share a look with Neil. Neil, who had Kevin cradled in his arms like Kevin was a child. He felt childish._

_“I know, I know, but I…” Kevin tried around a sob, scrunching his eyes up tight again and keening._

_“Hey.” Andrew tapped him once on the forehead. “Breathe.”_

_“I can’t.” He cried thinly, air catching on a wheeze so strong he coughed, almost doubling over._

_“Stop,” Neil whispered, soft and shaky against the back of Kevin’s head. “Stop, stop, you’re going to be okay.”_

_“Breathe,” Andrew said again and when Kevin forced his eyes back up there was something different in Andrew’s gaze, something open and raw that Kevin hadn’t seen before. Something he hadn’t been allowed to see before._

_It wasn’t compassion, it wasn’t even understanding because they couldn’t. They could never look past what Riko had done, to themselves, to Kevin, and to Jean. They could see through Kevin though and it startled him to realise the change that had happened behind his back. Weeks ago, months ago, this sort of outburst might have been met with scorn, disappointment but now…you didn’t have to understand pain to acknowledge it._

_The Foxes had looked at him like he was weak, pathetic for still letting his grief claim him but Neil and Andrew looked at him like what they told him he was. Someone who had been hurt. Someone who was hurting._

_So when Andrew told him to breathe again and Neil’s arms tightened, he found the strength to take an inhale. To wrap his hands around Neil’s wrists and cling to something safe and warm. He let Andrew’s voice drown out everyone else’s, even his own. When he lifted his eyes again it wasn’t as hard as it had been before and all he could see was gold._

…

The sun woke him in the morning, streaming through blinds he’d never closed. His cheek ached from being pressed into his phone and it took him a slow moment to remember why he was sleeping out on his couch. A sick wave rolled through his stomach as the events of the night before returned, quickly followed by embarrassment. A quick glance at his phone let him see that the battery had died. How long had he stayed on the phone with Neil and Andrew? Had they stayed on the line until Kevin’s depleted battery ended the call or had they hung up when Kevin’s breath had evened out into sleep?

He’s not sure he wanted to know.

His joints ached as he stood and stretched his arms above his head with a wince. Sleeping cramped onto a couch after a match wasn’t smart. Not that anything about the night before could be considered smart. His still made bed mocked him as he detoured on the way to the bathroom to plug in in his phone, placing it face down to avoid looking at the screen as it rebooted itself. He needed coffee first before he could let his mind really sink back into the mess that was the night before.

He needed to wait but when he stepped into the kitchen he rocked back on his feet like he had been hit. That might have hurt less than the sight of vodka still sitting on his counter. He had never had the chance to put it away again. He should pour it down the sink and be done with it but…

It wasn’t cold anymore when he put a hand around it and flexed his grip on the neck. It was slick with condensation and the counter was a mess but he could feel it. It should be less tempting in the light of day, look less like an answer after falling asleep to the sounds of his partners in his ears. It didn’t. It just looked like a bottle, clear and plain, generic. There was a metaphor in there somewhere. Something about addiction and slippery slopes disguised as everyday choices.

He could throw it away. He could split the neck and drink it whole. He could call someone. He could stand there in his kitchen at the break of morning, alone.

“Fuck.” He whispered under his breath. He never should have let it make its way into his apartment because strength was never something that came to him easily. He wasn’t Andrew. He wasn’t Neil.

“Fuck.” He hissed again through gritted teeth, picking the bottle up and tugging on his freezer. The bottle clanged against the bottom as he shoved it inside, the door banging as he slammed it closed. Out of sight, out of mind. That had to be enough, didn’t it?

_Liar, liar, liar._

Hot water did little to warm his skin in the shower and a blast of cold did nothing to clear his head. The pounding of water against the tile sounded like something cracking and splintering into thousands of tiny pieces. If he broke, would he get washed down the drain too? Swept away, drowned.

He stepped out of the shower and forced his lungs to fill and release. He tried to push out all thoughts and remember Bee’s voice, level and calm as she talked Kevin through ways to control his anxiety. He hadn’t wanted to see her but Andrew had been relentless in his own quiet way.

_Count five things you can see Kevin._

His gym bag in the corner of the room. A pair of socks that had escaped the laundry. An unpacked box of records. A stuffed fox wearing Andrews jersey number that Neil had given him as a joke. A matching one with Neil’s number Andrew had thrown at him when Kevin had pouted for a week that he didn’t have a set.

_Now four things you can touch._

The towel wrapped around his waist. The carpet underneath his feet. The water cooling on the skin of his back. Callouses on the inside of his hands.

_You’re doing great Kevin. Three things you hear, okay?_

Traffic outside his window. His neighbour vacuuming through the walls. She did that every morning. His heartbeat in his ears.

_Two smells, just two._

Vanilla body wash, the same one Andrew used. His coffee brewing in the other room.

_You’re almost done. One thing you can taste?_

The mint from his toothpaste. Not vodka. Not vodka.

He didn’t pick up his phone until the very last second before leaving for morning practice, telling himself it was so it got the most charge and not because he was avoiding discovering whether he had any messages. He did. Of course, he did.

There was one text sitting in his inbox sent just a little after one in the morning.

**N: Just breathe.**

His chest rose and fell deeply on autopilot. He had so much to deal with today, least of all being finding a way to talk to Aisling. His Coach was certain to want a word and Donovan…he reread Neil’s text and squared his shoulders. He was Kevin Day, he could deal with this. He’d been learning to shine his image his entire life after all.

…

**K: What’s better for an apology, chocolate cake or a cream pastry?**

He wasn’t honestly expecting an answer, wasn’t sure why he had thought to seek Andrew’s advice on something like sweets was the best first contact after the night before. Surely it would just seem like a cop-out; a weak attempt to pretend nothing was wrong. Maybe it was, but he wanted simple and he wanted easy. The rest of the day was going to be anything but those two things.

He was resigned to just asking the server to chose at random when his phone buzzed.

**A: Chocolate. Obviously.**

Kevin smiled, a small laugh bubbling in his chest.

**K: I forgot, more calories obviously means more sincerity.**

**A: Who said you can’t teach an old dog new tricks.**

Kevin looked up from his phone only to point to the offending cake, nodding politely at the cashier as he swiped his card.

**K: Are you calling me old?**

There was no immediate response to that and Kevin collected his purchase, using his elbow to exit the store and make the short walk back to his car. He’d safely loaded the cake and driven halfway to the stadium before he felt his phone vibrate against his thigh. A little thrill of anticipation urged him along the last of his journey and he unbuckled himself and grabbed his phone the second he got his car into park. Texting with Andrew was still a new thing. He knew the other man much preferred a phone call if they couldn’t talk in person, their voices a poor substitute for not being able to read their faces.

**A: Who are you apologising to?**

**K: Aisling.**

A few beats of silence and the three dots against Andrew’s name stopped and started multiples times.

**A: Guilt is pointless.**

To Andrew, it really was that simple. He didn’t spend time wallowing in guilt, didn’t believe in indulging in regret. Kevin knew that that didn’t mean he never felt it.

**K: Neil’s the one who said I needed to be in sync with my Striker. I can’t do that if she hates me.**

It was a coward’s answer, using Neil as a cover because he was afraid to admit shame to Andrew. He had already ruined so much of the progress he had made in seeming someone who could be strong in Andrew’s eyes with his performance the night before.

**A: So you’re going to bribe her? Is that ethical Mr. Day?**

**K: Ass.**

He sat in the car for a few minutes more, staring at the screen but nothing else seemed to be forthcoming, not any sign of Andrew typing. It wasn’t unusual for Andrew to stop conversations without any warning but he couldn’t help feel bereft all the same. He wanted to stay in the car, stay inside a bubble of back and forth with Andrew. If he called, Andrew might even pick up and he could close his eyes and listen to the smoky drawl of his voice. It wouldn’t even matter what he said. Right now he might even be okay listening to the man list all the sweets he’d consumed that week.

A bark of laughter jarred Kevin from his thoughts and he jumped a little, looking around as some of his teammates walked past his car. He sighed deeply, squeezing his fists together tight once before reaching for his bag and Aisling’s cake.

“One, two, three, go.” He told himself and opened the car door.

His phone vibrated once more as he approached the door and he had to juggle to slide it out of his pocket without dropping anything.

**A: Queens don’t get on their knees.**

A slow, shy grin spread across Kevin’s face and he felt, if only for that one moment, like maybe that could be true.

…

He expected to have to hunt Aisling down. He expected her not to be hiding from him—because she was too much a spitfire to hide from anyone—but to be right there in the open, ignoring him to his face. He was right about only one of those things.

“Fucking _finally!_” Aisling snapped as soon as Kevin managed to push his way through the door. She was standing dead-centre of the room, hands on her hips and wild hair looking like she’d run her hands through it one or thirty times. All of Kevin’s thought out openers he’d concocted on the drive over disappeared as he faced her.

“Well?” She demanded, tapping her foot. “_Come here._” She pointed one finger to the floor in front of her and Kevin, still trying to make his mouth close on a surprised gape, moved without considering he was a grown man being summoned like a naughty child. They had the attention of the whole room, none of their teammates even pretending to be doing anything else.

“Where have you been?” Aisling asked as soon as he got close to her.

“I—” He tried.

“I’ll tell you where you’ve been, hiding!” Aisling cut over him immediately, waving her hands up in agitated motions. Kevin took half a step back lest she knocks everything from his hands.

“You run out of here without so much as a by your leave, you don’t even come talk to me first!”

“I—”

“_I was worried sick!_” Aisling’s voice rose an octave and a couple of their teammates slunk back with a quiet wince. “No phone calls, no texts. Donovan said I was to leave you alone, which I told him was a fucking awful idea. He said you’d reach out if you needed someone, I told him he was a moron because I’ve met you Kevin Day and you don’t have the good sense god gave a grape.”

She paused only for a moment to take a big heaving breathe and nudged him once in the chest when he tried to open his mouth to speak again.

“What do you have to say for yourself huh? You’ve knocked years off my life and given me precisely three and half grey hairs.”

He thought he was going to have to bribe her to even talk to him and didn’t know what to do with the feeling curling in his chest at her obvious and genuine worry for him.

“Um,” He said feeling small and unsure. “I got you this,” He reached out between them with the box of cake, the bakeries name stamped to the top and saw her eyes narrow when she looked down at it. There was a brief moment where she continued to look angry, then suspicious before it all melted off her face leaving behind an expression that looked almost shattered. Her mouth opened and closed once before she looked back up at him, eyes wide.

He couldn’t help but fidget. “I’m sorry.” He tried, flicking his eyes to her and away, unsure. He was so rarely unsure, so rarely unconfident in his ability to put on a smile and ease over a situation. This felt different. There wasn’t a mask he had that he felt he could or even wanted to use.

“You asshole!” Aisling suddenly cried as she jumped forwards. Kevin only just managed to fling his arms out to the side to save the cake before Aisling crashed into his chest, arms wrapping his neck tightly and hair going a thousand different directions across his face. He could feel his brain and body stall as he was squeezed and he knew he should be saying something, doing something, but he couldn’t make anything happen.

Aisling seemed unperturbed by his rigid and stunned stance.

“I don’t care if I’m mad at you, you idiot. You can always talk to me. You shouldn’t have just run away especially after what the press said. I’m so sorry.” She was quiet this time, her voice pitched low and half-broken in his ear.

It made a fizzy, bubbling feeling well up in his throat and a pressure sit behind his eyes.

“I’m sorry.” Was the only thing he could repeat back, hushed and unsure, but honest.

It was awkward, what with the box in one hand and his bag hanging precariously off his other shoulder but he inched his arms towards her like bending rock. He’d never hugged anyone that wasn’t the Foxes in what felt like years and even then, he wasn’t a seeker of affection, not with them. With Neil and Andrew, it was different. There was comfort in being folded into their bodies; safety in the spaces their arms covered.

The notion that there could be comfort here too was startling.

A surprised hitch bounced through Aisling as Kevin settled his arms around her, light but then tighter when she hugged him harder in response. It was…nice. It was shockingly soothing after the stress of the day before and he felt himself go liquid all in one breath and he let himself be hugged and hugged her in return; the scent of her blueberry shampoo filling his nose.

When they eventually parted Aisling’s eyes were suspiciously wet and Kevin’s stomach dropped to the floor.

“Aisling I—”

“Don’t.” Aisling swatted him on the arm, taking a heaving breath. “Give me my cake. You owe me like ten more by the way. You can start after practice. I expect to be kept in sweet treats for at least the week.”

Kevin grimaced. “All week? Aisling there’s more sugar in one of those than—”

Aisling slapped a hand over his mouth and rolled her eyes. “I’ll let you throw in a fruit tart if you’ll shut up.” Her eyes flicked around the room as if she had only just then remembered they were standing in the middle of their team locker room.

“Enjoy the show? Here I thought we had practice?”

There were sudden scuffles of movement and then Donovan yelling for everyone to get on the Court but Kevin could only continue to look at Aisling and smile.

“Thank you.” He said when she dropped her hand, reaching out in a moment with the overwhelming need to squeeze her hand. There were more things to say. Moments of yesterday’s game to dissect and plans that needed to be made, but for once, they could wait.

Her answering smile was warm and her eye roll affectionate. Kevin wondered if this, this moment, was what it felt like to have a friend in your corner. Not because she needed him for his skills, not because she needed him for their survival; but because she wanted him, Kevin Day, as her friend too.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Better late than never? Don't worry, i promise this chapter is light and fluffy and cute to make up for it... honest...
> 
> Forever and a day grateful to my lovely editor Essence29! 
> 
> Trigger Warnings: Without completely spoiling it before you read it, if anything in the listed tags are triggering for you then you might like to avoid this chapter. Feel free to ask for a summary if you'd rather get the gist instead of reading!

He’d really thought, for one brief and relieving moment, that maybe everything was going to be okay.   
  
He never did learn his lesson, did he?  
  
…  
  
Maybe it was naive, but it hadn’t crossed his mind that the disaster of the press conference would carry on to be anything more than one dismal moment of his week. Two days out and he had enough distance to be more irritated than upset about it. The media weren’t known for pulling their punches when they wanted a story and he’d been exposed to this from the moment he picked up a racquet. It didn’t stop it being an annoyance but he had thought he was safe until the next round.   
  
Then there was Aisling. She was waiting for him outside his apartment when he was leaving for their teams morning gym session with a face that could only be described as distressed.   
  
“What’s happened?” He asked immediately, dropping his bag to the ground when she thrust a magazine at him without a word. That in itself was odd enough.   
  
He didn’t recognise the name nor the celebrity on the cover and for a moment he was more confused. He knew Aisling had a guilty obsession with trashy news but nothing in their past interactions should suggest he had any interest.  
  
“Aisling _ what _—” He frowned, scanning the cover until she reached out almost timidly and tapped on the bottom corner.   
  
It was such a zoomed out shot that he hadn’t registered it but at a second glance it was clearly of him, storming out of the teams press room with Donovan on his heels.  
  
**Exys Royalty Kevin Day: More A Pauper Than A Prince?**   
  
“Kevin…” Aisling finally spoke up, voice unsure but Kevin ignored her, flipping through the magazine so fast he was crumpling pages. There, page ten, the same photo blown up alongside a shaky shot of his failed attempt at scoring and himself and Aisling, clearly arguing at the buzzer.   
  
_Perhaps Kevin Day (son of Exy creator and legend Kayleigh Day) has jumped the gun on his self proclaimed crowning. Exy fans everywhere exploded with the covering of the famous number two tattooed onto his cheek, the match to the late Riko Moriyama and former partner. A Queen chess piece; is what once seemed as confidence actually arrogance? The first match of the season for the Bears proved a crippling loss and many are still reeling from the frankly appalling attempt on goal from the Striker. One would expect more from such a blatant declaration of superiority. When confronted with his less than stellar premiere on the professional stage Mr Day was defencive and blase about his inability to assess his team mates obvious opening.   
  
_A shudder started at Kevin’s feet and collected in his hands, the paper wrinkling all the more as he tightened his hold. Aisling reached out as if to snatch the magazine back from him but he took two harsh steps to the side.   
  
_…with a career this far based on pairs, is Mr Day incapable of holding up his previous standards without a crutch? This publication was unable to procure an official comment, but one can only speculate on how jarring a shift from reliance on another player to being alone must be…  
  
__…Riko Moriyama, succumbing perhaps to the pressure of maintaining a career for not just himself but the famous one two pair of the future court…  
  
__…sources say that Mr Day is uncooperative and distant with his team. With only one game of the season under his belt, could transfer already be on the cards? _   
  
“_ Kevin. _” Aisling tugged the magazine from his hands and he made to grab it back but she threw it onto the ground away from him.   
  
“I’m sorry, I thought you should see it before you met up with the team today but—hey, no!” She grabbed his arm and pulled him a few feet to the side when he tried to chase after the magazine as it blew across the concrete.   
  
“Look at me,” She ordered him. “It’s not important okay? They just want an easy sale that’s all. People will read all sorts of trash.”   
  
Kevin wrenched his arms free and turned to glare at her.   
  
“Like you? Couldn’t wait to read about how much everyone agrees with you?”   
  
Kevin’s chest was heaving but Aisling’s jaw twitched with barely held back tension.   
  
“You are upset so I am going to let that go but don’t you _ dare _.”  
  
“Fuck.” Kevin hissed, kicking his foot across the pavement. His hands shook when he ran them up through his hair. “Fuck, okay, I know.”  
  
A car door slammed somewhere in the distance and a group of kids drove by on their bikes, laughing carefree like Kevin’s reputation wasn’t spinning its way down a drainpipe.  
  
“Fuck,” He repeated. “I need to call Coach and my publicist and my—” Boyfriends. It nearly escaped him and he full bodily flinched as he trapped the words behind the snap of his teeth. Aisling’s eyes softened like she could hear the word anyways.   
  
“Would they have seen it?” She asked, dipping her voice low.   
  
Kevin shook his head and then shrugged. “No, maybe. Some of my old team mates, they’ll probably send it around the group when they see.” There was no way between Allison and Nicky that this would go uncirculated for long.   
  
“Do you want to go back up and call them? We have time.”   
  
“No.” Kevin sighed, dropping his arms and cradling his left hand on autopilot. “It’s fine. They don’t need something else to deal with right now.”   
  
Aisling’s eyes scrunched up in a frown. “I’m sure they would want you to.”   
  
I can’t, he wanted to say. Not again, not so soon, not after before.   
  
“This was always bound to happen when I went pro. Like you said, they just want a story. I can handle it.” The _ alone _ went unsaid but maybe, by the purse of her lips, not unheard.   
  
“Kevin.”   
  
Kevin turned his back on her, scooping down to retrieve his bag and resisting the itch in his fingers that urged him to reach for the article as well. When he stood and looked back at Aisling she was staring at him, arms lose by her sides and face open with worry. The smile he forced over his face felt like stapling a Halloween mask to his skin.   
  
“It’s going to alright, okay? Don’t worry. Lets go, do you need a lift?”   
  
Aisling didn’t move for a long moment, the expression on her face only deepening until her eyes seemed swallowed by it. She looked like Abby, all those months ago, when she’d stood waiting at the door for him on his return from Riko’s funeral and he’d torn himself in two to try to convince her he would be fine.   
  
“You’ll hurt yourself.” Aisling said in a whisper, eyes flicking down to his hand and Kevin flinched, releasing the grip he didn’t notice he’d tightened on his left hand. Small fingernail indents carved into the skin and her eyes seemed to see them all before she raised her head again.   
  
“I’m driving you Day and don’t you even think about arguing with me.”   
  
…  
  
He expected the attention when he walked into the gym. He expected his teammates’ curious stares and questions. He didn’t expect Donovan to grab him by the arm the second he was through the door, dragging him into the changing rooms without so much as a hello.   
  
“_ I’m fine. _” Kevin snapped as he was tugged, annoyance already seeping in.   
  
There was a loud snort from Donovan as he checked they were alone before he released Kevin, turning on him.   
  
“You’ve seen it?”  
  
“Aisling showed me.”   
  
There was an expectant look on Donovan’s face as he waited for Kevin to say more. When Kevin just stayed silent, folding his arms and raising one eyebrow Donovan scoffed.   
  
“Coach wants to see you as soon as we’re done here.”  
  
“I know, I texted her on the way.” Kevin paused. “Why did she tell you?”  
  
Donovan gave him a look like he thought Kevin was being deliberately obtuse.   
  
“Because I’m the Captain of this team Day and it’s my job to give a crap about my players when someone comes after them.”   
  
“I don’t need you to worry. I can deal with it.” Kevin tutted, making to turn round and leave the room.   
  
“You don’t have to be alone.” Donovan called after him and Kevin paused with his hand reaching for the door. He’d been told that before, in different ways by different people but it’s a sentiment that years ago he would have outright denied. Now it only gave him pause and he wondered if it was a notion that was true here too.  
  
“It’s okay to be upset.” Donovan carried on and Kevin could hear him walk closer to Kevin again, dropping his voice.   
  
“I’m not upset.” Kevin sighed, facing his Captain again. “It’s one article and I don’t give a fuck what some journalist says. So they think one loss means I can’t play, I’ll prove them wrong.”   
  
A complicated look flitted across Donovan’s face before he frowned.   
  
“Which article did you read Day?”   
  
Kevin frowned too. “What?”  
  
“Which article did you read? What publication was it?”   
  
A wave of dawning dread started to spread up from his stomach into his chest.   
  
“I don’t know, it was Aisling’s magazine, some gossip thing.”   
  
All the colour seemed to drain out of Donovan’s face and for a second, Kevin twitched to reach out to him. Donovan stumbled two steps away from him though, reaching up and threading his hands into his hair.   
  
“_ Fuck. _” He hissed. “You haven’t seen it.” He spun once in a frustrated circle and for a moment Kevin thought he might lash out at something. He didn’t though, just came to rest again in front of Kevin and when he let his arms fall to his side his expression crumbled.   
  
“You should talk to Coach, first, now.”   
  
“Donovan…” Kevin hedged.   
  
“No, really. You should go find her. Shit, I’m sorry Day.”   
  
“_ Donovan. _ What’s going on?”   
  
“I—” Donovan stumbled and Kevin hadn’t seen him do that before; look so lost for words.   
  
Kevin squared his shoulders, dug his heels into the floor like he was preparing for a physical blow.   
  
“Tell me.”   
  
Maybe it was his tone, maybe it was sympathy but Donovan opened and closed his mouth, once, twice before saying;  
  
“They’re accusing you of lying about what happened to you, your hand, everything. They’re saying you lied about it not being an accident for attention.”   
  
For the second time that day it felt like the world dissolved away from underneath his feet and he was falling; falling and he would never be able to slow down, never be able to stop. He was always going to be falling, always going to be pushed, down and down until he could no longer find a way back up again—   
  
_Stop, breathe, stop, breathe…  
  
_“What?” Donovan was asking him, worry in his tone.   
  
Kevin didn’t know that he was whispering under his breath until he stopped, turning on his heel so fast the room spun around him. The door thudded in it’s frame as he pushed all his weight into getting it open, startling silence into the entire gym as he marched through.   
  
“Kevin!” Aisling called and it could have come from the other side of the room or from the surface of the ocean he felt like he was one step away from drowning in. He didn’t stop, couldn’t stop, just slipped his phone from his bag as he escaped out the entrance, dial tone going before he’d even hit the pavement outside.   
  
…  
  
There were no less than twenty missed calls on his phone when he eventually turned it back on. He’d had to shut it off not ten minutes into his meeting with Fitz and his publicist, the incessant chiming driving his already stifling anxiety through the roof. His inbox was rammed with text messages. Half a dozen from Nicky and Neil, his father. There were three from Jean and two from Jeremy, even one each from Aaron and Dan. He couldn’t face reading any of them, scrolling blindly through and a second from exiting entirely when his eyes caught on a number he didn’t know.   
  
It could be anyone. A wrong number, a blind sales text, maybe a Fox who’d changed their number and not circulated it yet but; but he knew.   
  
**(Unknown): Do not engage. I will be watching. Do better.   
  
**Ichirou Moriyama. Or someone that worked for him at least. Who knew if he was important enough for a personal interaction. He might not be worth anything soon.   
  
A hysterical laugh bubbled in his throat and he clapped a hand over his mouth to bury it. He couldn’t, not here, his brain supplied to him.   
  
He’d gone for a walk after his meeting, needing to try and let the fresh air clear his head. He’d been banned from going anywhere near practice for the rest of the day and as much as he had argued, his Coach was immovable. The street around him wasn’t busy but there were enough people around, enough people that could see his team emblazoned on his jacket to be a risk. The last thing he needed right now was another expose on him.   
  
They weren’t going to comment, they weren’t going to validate the accusations by trying to fight it. This wasn’t new for Kevin. He’d been through this once already after Riko’s funeral, everyone clamouring for a way to dispute Kevin’s accusations against a now dead icon. They hadn’t argued then either, not able to with Ichirou down their necks. It had gone away. He only had to hope it would go away now too.   
  
He just needed to win. He needed to prove that he was still worth something on the Court, and the media's focus would shift again. It had to. He might not get out alive any other way.   
  
He closed the text without letting his gaze linger over it again but the words were imprinted behind his lids all the same. He wanted to talk to Neil. He wanted to know how he managed to breathe around the noose he had tied around both of their necks.   
  
He wanted to go to practice despite his coach’s orders. Wanted to run drills until his feet ached and until the sound of Exy balls on plexiglass drowned out everything else. He believed her though when she threatened to bench him all week. There was thrumming energy under his skin though and no where for it to go. He could go for a run. His gear was too heavy to jog with now but if he got a cab home he could dump it and be back out in under half an hour, let the dull impact of his feet on the concrete settle him. It always seemed to settle Neil.   
  
He could handle this, he could. He could handle it.   
  
…  
  
There was a car.  
  
There was a car and he couldn’t handle this.  
  
There was a car and it was parked outside his building, black and sleek; expensive. It could have been anyone’s. His area wasn’t cheap and people spent money on all kinds of frivolous things just because they could. It could be anyone’s, but it wasn’t.   
  
It was one of his. Ichirou’s. A message. A warning. _ I’ll be watching. _   
  
The cab sped away behind him and Kevin didn’t know what he was supposed to do. Was he supposed to approach it? Wait for someone to come to him? Ignore it and go inside, run inside. A voice in the back of his head that sounded like Andrew told him to stand his ground but didn’t he know? Kevin was a coward. He was a coward and he always had been, always would be. Hadn’t he been told that? Hadn’t he had those words flung at him, pierce him?   
  
He couldn’t handle this. Being here, being alone. Being responsible for his own safety and his own sanity.   
  
_I need help _. It was only a whisper in his brain but it made goosebumps break out all over his skin. He moved one foot forward and for a second he didn’t know what he intended to do. Run, hide, confront. It didn’t matter. The car’s engine started like a gunshot and Kevin flinched back, breath catching but…but it pulled away, turning in the opposite direction. It served it’s purpose as a warning and was leaving as just that. It didn’t feel like a relief to see it turn the corner and go out of sight. It felt like dread, thick and heavy in his gut, because one car could be two, could be dozens.   
  
Had he been watched the entire time or was it just today? How many cars, how many paid informants, how many potential bullets on his back had he not noticed?   
  
He was running before the thought even formed, struggling with his keys and ramming them into the door, cursing as he skidded in the lobby. The elevator was blessedly empty but his mind was a tornado tearing him apart from the inside. His apartment door stuck as he turned the handle and he could have sobbed, could have laid down there and let his insides fall to the floor. He pushed on the door until it gave and he thought there would be calm inside his walls. This was his space, his home. That wasn’t really true though when home wasn’t a place but people.   
  
He needed to call them. Neil and Andrew. Safety and sanity and home, home, home. He was going to tell them everything. There wasn’t an option anymore. Just as soon as he could hear their voices. He was going to tell them everything and he was going to hope it was enough, hope that he got to keep the thing that filled his chest to burst. He ignored everything and everyone on his phone until he could pull up their contacts. Andrew first. Andrew, who always had Kevin’s back when things got dangerous, when Kevin’s mind got dangerous. He was a wall of fierce loyalty and for whatever reason he was loyal to Kevin. He deserved the truth from Kevin, he deserved the openness he fought tooth and nail to be able to offer to both him and Neil. He deserved better than Kevin but he wanted all the same.   
  
The call rang. It rang once, twice, over and over. It dropped.   
  
Kevin’s breath hitched.   
  
It didn’t matter. It didn’t. It was the middle of the day and Kevin couldn’t remember if he had any classes at this time. Neil would—   
  
The call rang. It rang once, twice, over and over. It connected.  
  
“Neil.” He gasped with such strong relief he swayed with it.   
  
“_Now's not a good time Kevin. _”   
  
There was a bubble in his chest that he could feel inflating with every second, the weight of everything he needed to say that was close to suffocating.   
  
"I need to tell—”  
  
“_ Kevin. _” Neil sighed and he sounded so incredibly tired that Kevin stalled, blinking as his brain tried to calm down and catch up.   
  
“What’s,” He tried to ask, stuttering over speech as he paced a few steps back and forth in the entrance way of his apartment. “What’s wrong?”   
  
There was another sigh, this one rougher. “_ Can you just call back later? _”   
  
“Has something happened?”  
  
A thud echoed down the line and it sounded like someone knocking against a door. A memory filled him sluggishly, him and Neil, backs pressed against a bedroom door and heads tilted against the wood. He thought he knew Neil’s next words before he even said them.   
  
“_ Andrew. It’s not a good day. _”   
  
The pressure in his chest wilted, shrunk, pushed itself back and he sucked in a large breath.   
  
“Is he okay?”  
  
“_ No Kevin, he isn’t okay. _” Neil snapped and Kevin felt his shoulders drop into himself even as Neil cursed away from the phone.   
  
“_ Shit. _”   
  
“I could…do you want me to come up there?” Home, he wanted to say. Can I come home? His own problems, his own anxieties; they felt all at once like nothing in the face of Andrew and the horrors his own mind could inflict on him. What was a little loneliness, a little discomfort, when Andrew had faced and survived so much worse. He wanted to be able to be there for him in any way he could; he wanted to always want that.   
  
“_ No. _”   
  
Kevin stilled instantly, feet planted unsteadily beneath him.   
  
“No?”  
  
Neil sighed again and Kevin’s heart tugged. He knew, from seeing and experiencing it himself, how draining being around Andrew on one of his worst days could be. They’d do it in a heartbeat without complaint. They’d never begrudge him the time or blame him for the way he could lash out at them, but it took a toll on them all the same. Kevin liked to think it had gotten easier on Neil once Kevin was there to share the share the strain. He liked to think, hoped, that he helped.   
  
“I can help.” Kevin offered when Neil stayed silent. “I can get a flight and be there by tonight.”  
  
“_He’ll be okay by tomorrow. _” It was optimism and perhaps wishful thinking. Andrew’s bad nights could turn into bad days into bad weeks.   
  
“And if he’s not?”  
  
“_Then I’ll look after him. _”   
  
“And who's looking after you?”   
  
“_Kevin. _” Neil half growled, frustration making him tense in a way it always did. Kevin could easily imagine the way his forehead would be creased and his toes curled tightly against the floor as if to remind himself he couldn’t run.   
  
“I need…” Kevin tried to say. _ I need to be there. I need to be there for him and for you _, but Neil cut over him with a suddenly explosive noise.   
  
“_Well we don’t need you. _”  
  
The sentence snapped Kevin’s mouth shut sharply. White noise filled his ears and his vision seemed to tunnel around him. There was a hand in his stomach and it was twisting, twisting, twisting. There was no up, no down, just spinning and colours and _ we don’t need you. _   
  
_I need you _ , he wanted to argue. I need you and I don’t want to let you go. I need you and I _ need _ you to not let me go.   
  
“I—” He didn’t even really know what he was going to say but Neil spoke over him before he had to decide.  
  
“_ Kev, _ ” He dragged out the name on a groan. “ _ I didn’t mean that. _”   
  
_Liar _, Kevin’s brain supplied. Neil had always been a good liar, had made Kevin and everyone believe he was someone he wasn’t for months.   
  
“I know.” He said and his voice felt detached from the rest of himself. He sounded calm, but he felt like his bones were being torn out from under his skin.   
  
“_ It’s just, I’m tired and it’s… _” Neil floundered.   
  
“I know.” He repeated. “I need to go, okay? I have practice soon.”  
  
Words on words that he didn’t know how he was pulling together.   
  
Neil made a wounded sound, low and pained. “_ Kevin, I’m sor— _” His words cut off and Kevin could hear the sound of a door opening, the quick rustle of clothing against carpet and a soft, almost tentative whisper.  
  
“_ Drew? _”   
  
Kevin ended the call before he lost the ability to hold the phone at all. He couldn’t stand to wait and see if Andrew had heard, if Andrew would agree with Neil. Hearing it from one of them was like a bruise to every inch of his skin but to hear it from both…  
  
He was cold, when had it gotten so cold in his apartment? His fingers felt numb and knees knocked together as he tried to stagger forwards. Pressure binded his chest and he blinked hard against blackness that was creeping around his eyes. Why couldn’t he see? Why couldn’t he find a way to let out the sob that felt trapped in his throat? Why was there no air, why was there no space, why was—   
  
Air. Breathe. Breathing, he wasn’t breathing.   
  
“See,” He tried to say to himself as he collapsed against the nearest wall, feet skittering out aimlessly as he fell into a graceless heap. “What can, what can you see…?”   
  
_Nothing. _Nothing but empty rooms and empty spaces, corners that weren’t ever going to be filled because he wasn’t needed. There would be no voices to fill the silences and no over-sugared coffee wafting through on mornings. Warms hands weren’t going to slide into his hair and bodies weren’t going to slot into the edges of him at night.   
  
Air rushed back into him only to explode outwards a second later, a strangled and ripping sob that felt more like a scream. It hurt coming out and it hurt letting more air in after, but the feeling his chest hurt more, in his heart. That felt like it was splitting, tearing, breaking under the weight of Neil’s words. It hurt more than his fear ever could, more than Riko’s heel on his hand. It hurt in a way he didn’t know he could be hurt, a way that felt like something vital in him was caving in on itself.   
  
He needed, he needed; he needed someone, anyone.   
  
His phone shook in his grip as he struggled to scroll through his contacts, hand trembling so fiercely he nearly sent it skating across the floor as he bought it to his ear. Aisling had said he could call, hadn’t she? She’d said he could talk to her and maybe this was okay, maybe he could go to her for this. It rang and rang and he squeezed his eyes shut as it didn’t connect.   
  
“I,” He wheezed weakly, letting his phone fall down next to him. She was at practise. He knew that logically but it seared his chest in a way he didn’t expect. He should be there too, practising beside her and not sent away like a nuisance child who caused too much trouble. He should be with Andrew, sitting silent and sentinel until he could find a way back up from his mind. He should be next to Neil giving him the strength to wait out the storm they were both so helpless to stop completely.   
  
“I need you.” He choked out. Too late, always too late.   
  
“I need you, I’ll be better. I need you, I’ll be good.” He repeated over and over, rocking back with every tremor that wracked through him.   
  
“I need you, I’ll try harder,” He chanted as he dug his nails into his scars and shattered.   
  
…  
  
The vodka bottle has been sitting out for so long now that condensation had pooled on the top of the coffee table. Kevin’s hands in contrast, were slick warm with sweat where they were pressed hard into the wood surface. He didn’t remember how long he’d been staring at it. Long enough that his knees were stiff from being folded on the floor. His neck screamed from the tense way he was holding himself but the thought of moving was too much.   
  
He should call someone. This, he knew, but couldn’t bring himself to act on.   
  
Who would he call? His father, but he already had so many kids to worry about. The last thing he needed was to add Kevin back onto that list. He had been so proud when Kevin had announced his resolve to get sober, prouder still when it had been days, weeks, months since Kevin had last tasted a single drop. No, he couldn’t call Wymack.   
  
Aisling had all but said that when he needed her he could call but…but he couldn’t, couldn’t drag someone else into the cluster-fuck that was his life and expect them to stick around afterwards. She didn’t know, how could she know, just how much of a mess she had latched on to. He’d just weigh her down.   
  
He could practically hear Neil in his head, telling him to just pick up the phone. It was quiet though, muffled and covered by the echo of being told to stay away.   
  
_Well we don’t need you.   
  
_He squeezed his eyes closed in the futile hope it’d stop all the noise. He wasn’t good enough for them, he had always known that. He had so little to offer them. He didn’t know how to look after them the innate way they cared for each other. It was like breathing to them. Kevin could never soothe Andrews bad days like Neil, never knew what was enough and what was too far. He could never hold Neil’s nightmares back, never be strong enough to keep his feet from itching to run.   
  
_You aren’t wanted.   
  
_The glass of the bottle was still cold when he laid a hand around it loosely, testing the shape of it against his palm. It was familiar in a sickening way. Such a simple thing. The clear liquid as unassuming as water but what it represented; endless days of battling himself and his addiction, gone in a blink.   
  
The cap came off and it should be harder. There should be more resistance from something that had the power to destroy what Kevin had fought so hard to earn.   
  
He should call someone, but who would he call?  
  
The first pull glided down his throat like warm honey and for one blissful moment it was a balm to every one of his wounds. It was heaven and home, like welcoming an old friend. The second pull went down almost hungrily and then the burn hit the back of his throat like a gun rebounding. He coughed through the third swallow, the fourth, by the fifth there were tears pooling in the corners of his eyes and if he pretended it was the alcohol sting there was no one to call bullshit on him. It didn’t matter anyway. Six, seven, eight and he couldn’t think straight enough to feel ashamed. Nine, ten and he couldn’t remember what he should be ashamed of.   
  
He should call someone, but really, who would care?  
  
_We don’t need you. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See, totally light and fluffy right!
> 
> I made a spotify playlist to go along with this if anyone is interested. Its called the same as the story " I'm Here (Except When You're Not) " I'll keep adding to it because music inspires/motivates me so much when i am writing and i get emotional whenever i find a song i think has the right vibe to it :)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mean, i couldddd make an excuse but really, i am but humble trash who sucks long term at sticking to a schedule. Here is the next chapter though! Thank you so much to everyone who continues to leave me lovely comments and leaves likes. It still brightens my day whenever i see them. 
> 
> Always thank you to Essence29 for helping with editing and fleshing out ideas. I'm 100% sure i'd get stuck so much more often without your help!
> 
> Chapter Warnings: Sexual Content, after effects of alcohol.

The sound of Neil’s alarm was like a jackhammer to his skull. Kevin groaned and reached to smash his pillow into the sides of his face, refusing to open his eyes. 

Inconsiderate prick. Neil’s alarm meant it was precisely ass crack of dawn and Kevin was tired. His head thumped with a steady rhythm and his limbs felt like lead against the bed. He couldn’t remember what time he had crawled into bed the night before but the heavy feeling behind his eyes let him know that it wasn’t nearly early enough. 

“Turn it off.” He mostly whined and rolled to the side like it could mean escaping the noise. There was no reply but Kevin was almost certain that Neil would be smirking as he pulled on his running gear. 

“Neilllll.” He groaned and was rewarded with the shrill chirping silencing finally. His bed was warm when he snuggled further under the covers and that inviting comfort had him dozing back off almost immediately. 

Then the alarm rang again. 

Kevin groaned a long and mournful sound, frustration and fatigue making his movements jerky as he forced himself into a sitting position. Cool air licked across his skin and he mourned the loss of his cocoon. 

“Neil!” He grumbled, rubbing the grittiness of sleep from his eyes before blearily blinking them open. “Would you shut that infernal noise—”

For the briefest of seconds, Kevin was sure he was dreaming, that his mind was playing tricks on him as he looked confusedly around an empty room, no Neil in sight. No Andrew either. No bunk beds or dorm room. He wasn’t in the shitty excuse of a dorm at Palmetto, too small for one, let alone multiple athletes. He was in his apartment and it wasn’t a year ago. He wasn’t riding the coattails of yet another night practice gone too long, he was—

Bile rose in his throat so quickly he barely sprinted to the bathroom and crashed to his knees in time, frame convulsing almost violently as his stomach twisted. The meagre contents of his stomach left him painfully, and it was only as he gripped the edges of the toilet that he became aware of the pounding inside his skull, the grimy feeling across his skin. Hungover. He had a hangover. 

It felt like hours before he could take a shaky breath and reach up to flush, legs wobbling dangerously as he hobbled the few steps needed to dunk his whole head under the cold faucet. It did nothing to clear his headache, did nothing to soothe the persistent throb of too much alcohol, always too much, because Kevin never did have any self-control once he got started. 

“Fuck.” He whimpered to himself, glancing up into the mirror and almost recoiling. He looked as shit as he felt, clammy and pale and shaking. It was almost more sickening than the actual nausea with how familiar the sensations felt, how it felt like a returning, a reversion. This was a place he had come to know intimately and it took nothing at all, one moment of weakness and the twist of a cap for him to stumble back into it all over again. 

Andrew was going to kill him. 

Kevin gagged again and pressed his hand hard against his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut. The warring desire to call his partners and confess to what he had done battled against his shame. They’d already gone through this with him once. They had stayed by his side as he tore himself to pieces trying to curb his cravings, had pulled bottles from his fingers when he hadn’t had the strength to do it himself. Had brushed the hair from his forehead when he slipped and sobbed his way through the morning after. They’d endured every vulgar thing Kevin had spat at them when they stood between him and the door, had faced his desperation with rock steady resolve. They didn’t deserve to have to do that all over again. Who would even want to? 

Kevin scrunched his eyes closed to escape his reflection and tried to remember how to breathe. 

_In, out. In, out. In, out._

The alarm started up again. Except, it wasn’t an alarm. It was his phone. Kevin groaned and pulled once on his hair, relishing the quick flare of pain, the small punishment. It took detangling his covers and tossing his pillows to the side to find his phone. The battery warning flashed at him and he struggled uncoordinated to plug his charger into the bottom, feeling relieved for all of a second that the ringing stopped before it immediately started up again. 

He swallowed heavily and pressed the accept button. 

“Can we not do this—”

“_Explain to me,_” Aisling cut across him with no attempt to hide her irritation. “_What I said for you to do when you were having issues Day?_” 

“Aisling.” He said roughly, sighing and sinking shakily to the ground, back resting against the bed frame. “You told me to talk.” He said, hesitant. “I tried.” 

Aisling made a sound that could be annoyance, either at Kevin or herself he couldn’t tell. 

“_I’m sorry, I was still in practice, but I tried to call you after, like a dozen times. You didn’t pick up. I even tried coming by yours but you didn’t answer the buzzer._”

Kevin’s guilt was so all-consuming, it felt like a blanket weighing down on him. He didn’t remember if he had ignored the calls or just hadn’t heard them ring. He had no memory of his door going. He didn’t think he could have brought himself to answer either of them even if he had. 

“Sorry.” He mumbled. 

There was a loaded pause before Aisling spoke again. 

“_Are you okay?_”

No, he wasn’t, but he didn’t know that there was any way he could explain that to her. Regardless of how he had tried to call her the night before, this wasn’t something he could admit out loud. It was one thing to admit to teetering on an edge, another thing to admit that he catapulted off of it. If this got back to his coach, the rest of the team; it could ruin his whole career. Nobody wanted to play with an alcoholic. 

It was harder to get past the dryness in his throat that he expected. 

“I’m alright.” He swallowed forcefully to try and get rid of the roughness in his voice. “I was just annoyed and wanted to vent, I’m better after sleep.” 

The snort Aisling gave didn’t sound like she believed him at all. 

“_You’re a shit liar._” She accused.

Kevin hoped to god that wasn’t true or his whole world was about to fall to pieces around him. 

“Admittedly everything yesterday got a bit…much,”

“_Understatement._”

“_But,_ I’m handling it.” 

And he would handle it. He’d handle the press and he’d handle the allegations. He’d handle the empty bottle of vodka discarded somewhere in his apartment and he’d handle— 

The sound of a call waiting stalled his thoughts and when he pulled the phone from his ear he felt his stomach give another dangerous lurch. His headache doubled between one blink and the next. Neil.

“I have to go,” He managed to croak to Aisling. “Another call. See you at practice.”

“_I better Kev—_”

Kevin disconnected the call and stared as Neil’s dropped and immediately started ringing again. 

This, he didn’t know whether he could handle. 

_We don’t need you. _

He wanted to ignore the call. He wanted to hear what Neil had to say. He wanted to run himself through drills until he couldn’t feel anything but his pulse-pounding and he wanted to bury himself back inside his bed. He wanted a drink. 

“_Kev._” Neil breathed the second Kevin found the courage to bring the phone to his ear. 

It took three tries before Kevin could get Neil’s name out in return. 

“_I didn’t mean it, I swear._” Neil rushed out and it made Kevin’s chest seize. Neil always had a way of cutting straight to the point, much like Andrew, but it didn’t stop Kevin from wishing he could pretend the night before had never happened. He wished Neil had never said what he did, he wished he could forget the way the syllables sounded and how they carved their way into his ribs. 

“I know.” He replied when what he really meant was I wish; I wish I knew how to believe you. 

“_I was exhausted and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you, I never meant to take it out on you._” Neil sounded thoroughly miserable in a way he rarely was. Last night wouldn’t be the first time Neil had said something barbed to him in the heat of the moment, Kevin was guilty of the same charge, but it was different. Different from the ways they clashed and different from the fights they flitted in and out of at the start of their journey. 

Kevin had never before truly believed any of those words. 

His whole body crawled with the need to drink until he forgot that those words, those words he thought could be true. 

“_You’re important to us okay? To me._” 

“I know.” Kevin lied. 

“_Kevin._” Neil made what sounded like a frustrated sigh and it made no sense that it made Kevin feel guilty, but it did. He never wanted to hurt Neil and he’d long come to terms with the fact that he’d break himself in half to keep it that way. 

“I forgive you.” He forced out, wrapping one hand around his throat to keep the nausea at bay. “It’s okay.”

“_Are you?_” 

_There’s an empty bottle of vodka somewhere in my apartment_, he wanted to say. _I woke up this morning to your presence in the room but when I opened my eyes I was alone. I can still taste the results of my weakness on the back of my tongue. Do I sound like I am okay,_ he wanted to scream. 

“You don’t have to worry about me.” He said slowly, calmly, every word a lie. “I’m okay.” 

“_You know you can tell—_”

“How’s Andrew?” He deflected because he knew there was no way he could handle the sort of words Neil was about to say. The skin on his neck itched against the fingernails leaving indents in their wake. 

There was a long pause before Neil spoke and in the background of it, Kevin could hear the faint sound of birds, a few snatches of chatter and distant cars. Neil was on his morning run, probably miles away from the dorm if his nasty habit of not thinking had reared up while he worried. No Andrew then. Was it simply a desire to talk to Kevin alone or was Andrew just not interested in soothing Kevin’s edges? He must have heard, those seconds before he opened the bedroom door. He must have heard what Neil had said and if they weren’t true, if he didn’t agree…Andrew would tell him, wouldn’t he? 

Neil’s voice was tired when he eventually found words. 

“_He’s…better? He’s alert now, talking. I think the worsts passed._” 

This time, Kevin thought but didn’t say. It tore him apart that he wasn’t there to help; but he wasn’t wanted anyway, right? 

“_We’re going to come see you._” 

Kevin felt every nerve in his body tense up and lock. 

“What?”

“_This weekend,_” Neil clarified. “_Wymack’s letting us miss practice Friday so we can fly down._” 

“Dad’s letting you?” Kevin said weakly. 

Neil didn’t comment on the title. “_Well I don’t think it’s letting so much as he knows he can’t stop Andrew anyway, but yeah._” Neil trailed off nervously. 

Kevin opened and closed his mouth and realised he had no air for words. He was screwed, so completely and utterly screwed. 

“_Kevin? You there?_” 

“I…”

“_We miss you Kev,_” Neil said softly, so softly it tore a hole through Kevin’s anxiety. 

“I miss you too.” He breathed truthfully and even though it hurt, even though it felt like toeing a line of his own weakness, he couldn’t stop the words if he tried. Neil’s smile was audible as he let out a sound in relief. Kevin was beyond fucked. 

…

Its been weeks and weeks since he’s seen Neil or Andrew and the time feels like its embedded into his skin. It’s longer than any of them thought they’d go before coming together again. He wondered if that made them naive. 

Kevin’s been pacing the length of his apartment ever since Neil text to tell him they were on their way to him from the airport. He’s glad, in hindsight, that he let them convince him they’d be okay getting a taxi down so Kevin wouldn’t have to leave practice early. He’s not sure he could be trusted behind the wheel with how his hands won’t stop shaking. Every second since they were here with him last seems suddenly shrunk to nothing and even though it is everything he wished every waking moment of the day, it almost feels too soon now it's arrived. He wasn’t ready. He didn’t know if he could face them knowing what he had done. 

He wasn’t ready but that didn’t matter anymore because the buzzer for his door was ringing and startling a trip into Kevin’s steps. The walk to his door felt like walking to his own personal gallows. He cleared his throat twice before answering them and hoped everything he needs to hide from them didn’t show on his face. 

“Hi.” 

“Hey.” Neil grinned as he bustled straight into Kevin’s apartment, flinging his bag absently and reaching out to squeeze Kevin’s arm in welcome. His face was a star in the night sky, shining pure and Kevin felt blinded by how much he missed it. He wanted to have those eyes at reach at all times, wanted to be able to drown in them and anchor himself to the blue. 

“You okay? You look a little pale.” Neil’s face frowned and Kevin immediately felt guilty. He had been quiet too long, absorbing as much in a moment as possible, and now that smile was fading. 

“Your heart eyes are turning his stomach. “ Andrew said flatly as he followed behind, clicking the door shut and sealing them all in. His presence reached to fill every corner of Kevin’s home and the weight of it was like a childhood blanket. His words sounded dismissive but his gaze landed on Kevin all the same, roaming over his face before quirking one of his eyebrows. 

Kevin swallowed hard. “I didn’t sleep much last night.” It wasn’t really a lie, which was likely the only reason Andrew didn’t immediately see right through him. Andrew, himself, looked tired, the edges around him rough the way they always were when the picture reel of his past played excessively behind his eyes. 

“Bad dreams?” Neil asked gently as he slid an arm around Kevin to guide them all further into the room. His voice was level but Kevin could feel the tighter than normal grip to his fingers that screamed guilt, and he wasn’t sure how that made him feel in that moment. He could never feel pleased about it, but he couldn’t bring himself to find it unnecessary either. 

“No, just up late going over plays.” He settled on. What does he usually do with his hands? They felt numb on the end of his arms and he barely felt it when one of Andrew’s fingers brushed over him on his way past. 

Andrew rolled his eyes as he perched himself on the arm of Kevin’s couch, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a carton of cigarettes. 

“Junkie.”

Kevin shrugged, shivering when Andrew kept his intense gaze locked on him even as he brought a lit cigarette to his lips. He couldn’t even find the will to complain about the smell. 

Neil nudged him gently to get his attention. “Do you want to take a nap?” 

“I’ll be okay.” He lied. “I’m too energised from practice anyway.” 

“I can work with energised,” Neil’s smile turned more playful, more predatory. It looked genuine, but Neil always was good at putting on a persona. “Want us to help you?” 

He was quick to burn up regardless. The weight of everything he was keeping from them should be like an ocean of water between him and the fire they could so quickly pool in him. Neil was looking at him with his eyes almost glowing with intensity and he could feel Andrew was watching them both as well. 

He swallowed again. “Okay.”

“Sound more enthusiastic Day.” Andrew snorted. 

“Shush.” Neil threw at him playfully while his eyes never left Kevin’s. He closed the small distance between them until they were pressed front to front. “Yes or no, Kev?” 

He felt more than heard Andrew get up and approach from behind. His hands rose and hovered over Kevin’s back, close but not touching, the warmth of him seeping through Kevin’s shirt. His eyes fell to Neil’s lips and he shuddered. 

Would they be able to taste anything on Kevin’s tongue? He hadn’t touched anything again since that first night, had brushed his teeth so many times and downed coffee to replace the traces he was sure lingered. He hadn’t had to hide drinking from them before, his alcoholism was a flashing crutch everyone got to witness at Palmetto. 

“Day.” Andrew murmured and his breath blew goosebumps into Kevin’s neck. 

“Yes.” Kevin breathed. Yes to both of them, yes to anything, to everything. 

They reached for him at the same time and the way his body trembled was hidden between the press of their bodies. The way he screwed his eyes shut in apology for what he’d let himself become missed as he fell into the space of Neil’s neck. 

…

The numbers on Kevin’s clock seemed to taunt him as he laid staring at them, willing them to change but knowing they wouldn’t. He had hoped, perhaps foolishly, that the presence of Andrew and Neil in his bed again would let him rest. Though he had for a while, his body blissfully sinking into a warm slumber soothed by their closeness, he was now wide awake. 

He didn’t need to be up for a couple more hours yet. He was supposed to be going with Neil for his morning run. The look on Neil’s face when he had told him he’d be tagging along the next morning had been one of disbelief. Granted, it wasn’t entirely unwarranted. Kevin knew he was a hard person to get out of bed in university, knew that Neil would often have to lure him from the sheets and into his shoes. 

He missed their runs. He missed the quiet of the morning and the small slot of time where he got to have Neil all to himself. It had taken a while, at the start, to not feel guilty about any of them wanting to have time as a duo instead of a trio. It had been good for them though, to build connections separately as well as a whole. 

He briefly considered just waking Neil early but pushed it aside immediately after. It was early, too early for even Neil. Resigning himself to just waiting up for the redhead, Kevin sat himself up in bed as gently as possible. 

It said something about how close the three had become, how at ease they had struggled and fought to be; that Kevin could ease himself out from under Neil’s arm and the man did not wake. A feat like that would have been impossible not such a short time ago. Even exhausted after a long flight and falling into bed even later, Neil should have sprung awake at the movement. As it was, when Kevin paused to pull the covers back over his shoulders, the man just shifted a little in his sleep, hands reaching into the warm space Kevin’s body had left. He paused at the door before he opened it to glance at Andrew, but his eyes were closed, mouth parted slightly and breathing slow. It made Kevin’s chest squeeze in the best type of way. Suddenly being woken didn’t seem too bad. 

Closing the door as quietly as possible, he didn’t bother turning on any lights as he made his way to the kitchen. He’d never closed the blinds last night and the first tendrils of dawn gave him enough light to see. Besides, this was a routine he was starting to know by heart, whether he wanted to or not. Mug from the draining board, coffee grounds in the cupboard next to the fridge, spoon from the drawer above the dishwasher. 

He’d managed to drain most of one mug and started debating on whether it was too early to begin making breakfast when he heard the slightest creak of his floorboards and the whisper of feet. When he turned, Andrew was standing there. His eyes were bleary in the dim light but his gaze was still heavy, the question in them clear. His sleep clothes are rumpled and for a moment Kevin was struck by how soft he could look. Soft was rarely a word he would use to describe either of his partners during the day but moments like this, when sleep was still clinging and the world wasn’t yet turning? Andrew looked like something Kevin wanted to bury himself in, a comfort blanket he wanted to wrap around himself. 

Andrew lifted an eyebrow like he could read everything Kevin was thinking on his face. That was probably mostly true. Andrew was scarily perceptive.

“Coffee?” Kevin offered when the silence between them stretched into strange even for them. While mornings weren’t always a chatty affair, they weren’t this, weren’t stilted. 

Andrew merely hummed from the doorway and Kevin turned, pulling Andrews mug from the cupboard and filling it, topping it off with the sugar he only kept in the apartment for these visits. He’d stopped complaining about the way Andrew took his coffee months ago, a concession he made that was rewarded by Andrew eating at least one healthy thing with his breakfast. Bananas turned out to be a favourite, more so when Neil would take the time to cook them into pancakes or on top of waffles. As long as he left the syrup off them, Kevin counted it as a win. 

He didn’t drop the mug when he turned back around to find Andrew right behind him but it was a close thing. Andrew’s hand came up to take the mug, but he immediately moved it to the counter to their side, eyes never looking away from Kevin’s face. Kevin didn’t know what the man was looking for and tried to smile at him. It felt thin to him, which meant it definitely looked thin to Andrew. 

“Sleep okay?” Kevin asked and then winced internally at the clearly false cheer in his voice. He needed to do better, needed to keep it together or Andrew was going to see right through him and then were would be? 

Alone. 

Andrew tilted his head the smallest amount, a frown creasing between his eyes for one second and gone the next. 

“Yes or no?” 

Kevin’s smile was a little more real this time. “Yes.” 

Kevin lent down automatically. He’d learnt pretty quickly that while Neil was amused at having to stand on his toes to kiss Kevin, Andrew hated it. Andrew’s hand came up around his neck, pulling him in and slotting their mouths together in a kiss that was slow but deep. Kevin’s lips tingled as Andrew bit gently at the skin before soothing it was with his tongue. Kevin chased the feeling, shuddering a little as Andrew allowed his access. Andrew’s other hand came up to Kevin’s hip, hovering barely there before Kevin nodded into the kiss and Andrew slipped under the hem of his shirt to press cold fingers to warm skin. 

Kevin’s head felt fuzzy as they stood there in his small kitchen. He could no longer remember what he was supposed to be hiding, could no longer remember every horrible thought that chased him from his bed. The only thing he could focus on was the warm press of Andrew, the scent of him fusing into his skin. Want crawled up over him slowly and he gasped a little into Andrew’s mouth, bringing his own hands up, wanting to run them through hair or push away fabric but when the question bubbled in his throat he was suddenly met with empty air. 

Andrew stepped back with no warning and when Kevin managed to open his eyes it almost looked like nothing had happened. No sign lingered on Andrew’s face and the slight speed of his breathing was barely noticeable. Kevin swallowed roughly.

“Did I—” He tried to ask but couldn’t finish. 

Andrew turned away from him just enough to pick up his coffee mug, sipping at the probably now lukewarm drink before finally bringing his gaze back around to Kevin. 

“Since when are you a morning person?” 

Kevin blinked, taken by surprise. He’d forgotten, in the sweet slide of Andrew’s kisses, what had brought the man to follow him into the kitchen in the first place. 

“I have to be up early.” He shrugged. He wished he had a mug of his own to hold just to have something to do with his hands. “Practice.”

“Do all-pro teams start before four? I might have to rethink my career path.” 

“I like to get a head start.”

Andrew snorted. “Since when?” 

“People change Andrew.” He said defensively. 

Andrew merely crossed his arms, face completely blank. Kevin sighed irritably, turning his back on the man to fix himself another coffee. He was beginning to think he would need it. The absence of something stronger than caffeine was already starting to niggle at the back of his brain and he used twice the amount of grounds as usual, hoping the strength would help. 

“Have you?” Andrew’s voice was further away this time and when Kevin looked back at him he was almost back to the bedroom, coffee mug abandoned. 

There was something in his expression, something peeking from behind his hard eyes that made Kevin’s stomach knot with worry a shade too close to fear. If Kevin wanted to pick a moment to voice everything that had been swirling in his head this would be it. Andrew was looking at him with whatever that expression was, but there was also patience there. The question might have been asked casually across the room but Kevin knew the distance was likely deliberate. Everything Andrew did was deliberate. If Kevin wanted to tell him anything, Andrew would sit there all morning and let Kevin find the words. 

Those words don’t come. 

“It’s just a morning Andrew.” He said and chuckled softly, hoping it didn’t sound strained, hoping it sounded believable. 

If by the way, Andrew disappeared back into the bedroom without a word, he didn’t think he had succeeded. 

…

Neil smiled at him and it was the soft smile that he reserved for mornings like these. Mornings where it was just them and the sunlight. He walked the distance until he was standing in front of Kevin, reaching out a hand and gently carding his fingers through the front of Kevin’s hair. His palm was warm where it brushed his forehead and Kevin’s eyelids fluttered at the touch. 

“Sleep okay?” Neil asked in a voice barely above a whisper. It was still rough from sleep but it was one of Kevin’s favourite sounds. 

Kevin just hummed noncommittally in response, tilting his head a little so Neil’s nails scratched over the spot that he liked. 

“I heard you and Andrew moving around.” Neil prodded when Kevin didn’t add anything to the silence. 

It wasn’t said as an accusation but an opening, but it was one—like Andrew’s—that Kevin didn’t feel capable of taking. He didn’t know if Andrew had said anything when he had returned to Neil in Kevin’s bed. Part of him wasn’t sure he wanted to know what words they would have shared between the sheets. Disappointment in him maybe, frustration. Annoyance. 

“I’m sorry I woke you.”

Neil made a humming noise and ran small circles into the skin behind Kevin’s ears. 

“You didn’t. It was cold.” 

Cold because Neil sought out heat in the night like a cat. He’d press himself alongside Kevin with his icy feet and leach all the warmth he could get. Sometimes Kevin would wake in the night and Neil would be turned towards Andrew, not touching him even in sleep but curled into the pockets of warmth Andrew collected under the covers. 

“Sorry,” Kevin mumbled again. Neil’s fingers were helping to ease some of the tension from him and he felt small in the early morning light. 

“Do you want to skip the run and go back to bed? There’s still time.” Neil offered, eyes flicking over Kevin’s face with an assessing look. “You look tired Kev.” 

“I’m fine,” Kevin answered on autopilot, rolling his eyes when Neil rose one eyebrow at him. “Honestly.” 

He reached up and circled Neil’s wrists with his hands, tugging them down gently until he could hug them against his chest. 

“I miss running with you.”

Neil’s smile was everything Kevin remembered it to be. 

“I miss it too.” 

…

They made a circuit around Kevin’s neighbourhood that was nearly half as short as the one Kevin had gotten used to taking. He didn’t say anything as Neil winded them down to a brisk walk. He wondered if this was how Neil felt when he first came to Palmetto and his feet on the pavement were the only thing that could calm him down. If this is what the persistent feeling of never getting far enough felt like. 

“You’re faster.” Neil praised him and he was only mildly panting as they rode the elevator up to Kevin’s floor. 

“Was playing at a professional level supposed to make me slower?”

Neil snorted but his smile was fond. 

“It’s a compliment. Can’t I flirt with you?”

Kevin wrinkled his nose as they reached his floor, rummaging for his keys in the depths of his pockets. 

“Andrew’s right, you’re terrible at flirting.” 

“Hey, it worked on you two didn’t it?” 

The apartment was still and quiet when they trudged their way inside. Andrew might not be asleep with both of them absent, but he was likely still hiding in the plushness of Kevin’s comforter, so much more decadent than a university dorm bed. 

Kevin toed his shoes off and lined them up with his other pairs, reaching over to snag Neil’s when he flicked them off haphazardly. 

“Moment of weakness.” 

Neil was full-on smirking when Kevin straightened up and it was mischievous, the type of tilt of the mouth that promised danger. Kevin had learnt long ago that danger could taste like honey even as it burned like wildfire. 

“I make you weak?” 

“You make me irritated.” 

Neil hummed and stalked forwards, reaching out to press a hand against Kevin’s chest, the touch light while he waited a beat to see if he’d be stopped and then pushing until Kevin was pressed back against the door. It didn’t matter that Kevin towered over him, that even on his toes Neil couldn’t even reach Kevin’s mouth without him bending down to meet him. There was still something intoxicating about being boxed in by him, about being caught with the weight of another person against him. There was no way Neil could contain him if Kevin wanted to move but that wasn’t the point. It was much more heady, for the both of them, for Kevin to sag boneless against the door because he wanted to, not because he was made to. 

“What if I do this?” Neil asked, voice nearly a purr as he traced fingertips up Kevin’s arm until he shivered. 

“Or this?” 

There was a spot behind Kevin’s ear that made his knees knock together and his bottom lip disappear behind his teeth. Andrew liked to kiss it until Kevin couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but tremble. Neil traced a gentle finger over that spot and while it wasn’t the same as having teeth scrape over the skin, it still made a breathy moan slip past his lips. 

“Are you still irritated?” Neil asked, slipping the hand from his chest down in a slow path until he fingered the hem of Kevin’s top. They were both still sticky and hot from their run but if Neil didn’t care then Kevin sure as hell didn’t. Neil tapped his fingers twice against the material and Kevin nodded, leaning into the motion as Neil slid his hand under to skim across his stomach. He was hot for an entirely different reason when Neil scraped his nails in a slow, swirling pattern. 

“Kev,” Neil half sang, voice tellingly hoarse, “Are you?”

“I will be,” Kevin grit out, looking down at Neil in a probably failed attempt to look stern. “If you don’t get on with whatever you’re planning on doing.” 

His impatience was tempered by the hand he reached out to curl into Neil's hair, tugging lightly and bending down until their lips were only a breath apart. 

“If you’re going to get me off, get me off.” 

Neil’s only response was to surge forward the last inch of space, immediately biting into the delicate skin of Kevin’s lip and moaning beautifully when their tongues met. Kissing Neil was like kissing an open flame. He was hot in every sense of the word and he was wild, uninhabited in his desire to get closer and more from Kevin. 

It was something, at the start, that had worried Kevin. That the forcefulness with which Neil could devour Kevin was an outlet for the slower pace he often had to take with Andrew. He had come to understand and appreciate the different ways they loved each other weren’t replacements or a means to funnel feelings. They were just different, none less themselves, or less genuine than the other. 

“Tell me.” Neil mumbled into the kiss, curling both his hands around the bone of Kevin’s hips. “Tell me again.”

The noise that left Kevin was all frustration. “You’re as bad as Andrew.” 

He could feel Neil grin into his mouth and reached down the squeeze Neil’s ass through his shorts in retaliation. The squeak it earned him was a sound he wished he could record and play on repeat. 

“He thinks it’s hot when you tell him what you want. I like that he thinks that. I think it’s hot too.” 

Kevin would never understand why people were still more afraid of Andrew when Neil and his mouth were danger personified. 

“I want you to get me off.” Kevin all but snarled. Weeks and weeks of lonely nights and an empty apartment made him feel desperate, impatient. Time was a cruel thing. Neil was here now but soon he would be gone again. They both would. There was no way Kevin could ever get enough, ever feel enough, to make that not seem like a looming noose. 

By some higher power Neil didn’t argue with him, didn’t make him beg or squirm like he sometimes made him do; just sank to his knees in one fluid motion. The room around Kevin spun and he sighed out a noise that felt like puzzle pieces coming together. 

Neil’s mouth was sinful in all the best ways. He was less finessed in his technique than Andrew but made up for it with enthusiasm and heat. 

“_Shit._” Kevin cursed, thumping his head back against the door as Neil wasted no time on going slow. His pace was quick and just on the shy side of rough but it was the sort of pace that made Kevin’s toes curl. There was a time for slow, a time for drawing out every feeling they could from each other. Kevin didn’t want slow. He wanted connection and burning and the feeling of rushing towards the edge. 

“Don’t stop,” He moaned, hooking his fingers into Neil’s shoulders and hanging on tight. Neil hummed what might have been an agreement and it made Kevin’s spine arch. 

“Ah, _Neil_, just like that,” 

Neil’s eyelashes were criminal with the way they fanned across his skin as he kept his eyes softly closed. He always looked so content when he was doing this, like the simple act of giving them pleasure was all he needed to take from the experience. It was an intoxicating gift to be given. 

Heat flickered through him as he raced towards a finish that he was all but trembling for. There would be bruises on Neil’s skin from how hard Kevin was hanging on but Neil, ever the one fascinated with physical representations of his place, would wear them with awe. Andrew would eye them with a heavy intensity, his eyes darkening and his mouth doing that quirk it made when he was trying to act unaffected. Kevin loved that look. 

“Neil, Neil, I’m nearly-,” 

Neil’s hands pushed Kevin’s hip back sharply against the door as he took Kevin in as far as he could manage, hollowing his cheeks and humming as Kevin moaned around the feeling of the universe expanding and cracking. Every nerve in him lit up and ignited, Neil’s name falling in a babble of gasps. He didn’t stop until Kevin was shaking with sensitivity, legs swaying under him and head swimming as it tried to float back down. 

“Is that what you wanted?” Neil teased with one raised brow as he wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. 

Kevin tried really hard to glare but his face didn’t want to make any other expression except extremely satisfied. Neil’s ego certainly didn’t need the boost from seeing it. 

“Come on,” He snapped, his voice suspiciously soft and warm, “Shower and I might return the favour.” 

Neil laughed like wind chimes in the breeze as he let himself be pulled along. 

“Now who's the flirt?” 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay but it's been forever and a day since I updated and I never intended for it to be this long! I had a mini break to write other stuff that turned into a long break that turned into opening this back up and having no idea how to carry on writing it. But it's done and I don't really like it but still, it's here!
> 
> Continuing and everlasting thanks to Essence29 for being the best cheerleader and encourager and generally reminding me that i can do the putting words into sentences that occasionally make sense! 
> 
> Warnings: homophobic language/behavior (mild, i think, but its there.)

Kevin had to force Neil out of the shower so he had any chance of actually getting clean. Neil left him with a satisfied and soft around the edges smile, pausing to kiss Kevin so tenderly that he almost decided to drag him back under the warm water. 

His body felt loose in the way it always did after having one of his partners’ hands-on him but it was the gentle fuzziness in his brain that was most welcome. The maddeningly ever-present voice in the back of his head was blissfully quiet and he felt a sense of peace he hadn’t felt in weeks. His slip up felt miles behind him, a temporary and singular moment of weakness that he was surely now over. 

Neil was here. Andrew was here. Kevin could think, breathe, _be_. 

Andrew had only peaked at them with one squinted eye from under the covers as they had tumbled past him, Kevin divesting Neil of his clothes as Neil hampered that task by trying to climb Kevin like a tree. He’d snorted softly when Kevin had lifted Neil up under the thighs, catching his eyes over Neil’s shoulder and pretending to go back to sleep even as Kevin had grinned wickedly at him. He knew the other man would have been listening as Kevin shattered Neil into pieces in the thick steam of the shower. 

He was gone when Kevin wandered out from the bathroom, roughly running a towel over his hair. The bed was crumpled and the pillows were thrown all over. It brought a smile to Kevin’s mouth, the familiarity of the sight and the knowledge that if he were to bury his nose in the fabric it would smell like nicotine and vanilla. 

He pulled on a loose pair of sweats and one of his team sweaters, padding barefoot out of the bedroom in search of his partners. The door to the kitchen was leaning open slightly but he could hear the sound of Neil humming alongside the opening and closing of doors. Kevin’s stomach gave a small protest and he hoped Neil was making breakfast. He entertained the idea of sneaking in behind him, sliding his arms around the smaller man so he’d giggle in that small surprised way that he did. It was endearing and so fucking cute. The faint odour of cigarette smoke pulled him in the direction of the lounge though, his feet leading him as if tugged. 

The balcony door was open but Andrew himself was sitting on the sofa, curled up in one corner with his whole frame nearly swallowed by one of Kevin’s old Palmetto sweatshirts. He looked small, smaller than normal because Andrew was always larger than life. 

The remnants of a bad episode were still visible on his face from the dark circles under his eyes and the small frown lines on his forehead. He couldn’t see, but he’d wager Andrews bands were settled firmly over his arms, a barrier he was dropping more and more but still necessary on days he felt more raw than usual. It tore at Kevin’s chest, ripped at the skin like a thousand needles. He would give anything, do anything, for Andrew to never have to disappear away to places he and Neil couldn’t protect him. 

“Staring.” Andrew accused without turning and Kevin let a small smile creep over his face. 

“I didn’t want you to feel left out.” 

Andrew snorted and when he turned his face a fraction to the side to regard Kevin his eyes were blessedly clear and aware. 

“Come here.” He said, not quite soft but hushed. 

Kevin was powerless to do anything but, sinking into the space beside Andrew, close but not touching. Some days, most days, Kevin would give everything to have only this. Andrew a handbreadth away from, in reach and solid next to him. 

“Do you want to watch something?” Kevin offered, eyes already scanning around for where he had last thrown the remote. He had multiple episodes of one the dramas Andrew secretly liked to indulge in saved.

“No,” Andrew answered before he fidgeted a little in his seat, crossing and uncrossing his arms and tugging at the edge of his sweatshirt. 

“Your apartments freezing.” 

Kevin couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “I wasn’t the one who left the balcony door open, was I?”

“Slander.”

Kevin braced his hands to get back up, a fond smile making his chest fill with warmth but was halted by Andrew untangling one hand to hold out in his direction. 

“Stay.” It wasn’t a question but Kevin nodded in agreement all the same and relaxed back into the cushions. 

Andrew’s movements were slow and calculated in a way they always were this close to breaking out the other side of a bad day. Their lines often reverted to walls and the easiness they had learnt to let each other past them became once more a battle of want against need. Progress wasn’t linear and improvement didn’t follow in patterns. The intimacy Andrew allowed the night before wasn’t a guarantee of the morning to follow. 

Kevin kept himself entirely still, kept his body relaxed and open but kept his face unexpectant. 

“Can I put my head in your lap, yes or no?” 

It wasn’t an action that required verbal consent often. There was rarely a time where Kevin wouldn’t welcome the gift that was his partners taking comfort in being close to him or the solace he found in the steady weight of them against him. Many nights at Fox Tower he would find his lap full of Andrew, the man’s face pressed into his stomach and his hand curled into the fabric of his trousers. It was a humbling display of trust every time Andrew would allow himself to fall asleep like that, his face soft and smoothed out in rest. 

“Yeah,” Kevin said softly. “Of course.” 

It took several slow minutes for Andrew to unfurl in stages and relocate himself, laying his head across Kevin’s thighs with barely any pressure at first, almost hovering. He was turned towards the room, away from Kevin but he didn’t begrudge him the need for an unobscured view of his surroundings. 

“Hey,” Kevin said quietly after Andrew got himself situated. “Can I run my fingers through your hair?”

It was another action that had become common, the blonde strands threading through Kevin’s fingers idly as they watched television or Kevin explained the latest aspect of history to grab his interest. It was soothing for both of them, the repetitive motion calming and grounding. 

Andrew didn’t answer for several long minutes and Kevin let the notion slip away from him with no sense of disappointment. This was enough. Whatever Andrew allowed him was always going to be enough. 

“Don’t pull.” Andrew eventually spoke, voice almost as tense as his body still was. If this was Neil, Kevin might be tempted to tell him not to push himself if he didn’t feel capable. Saying something like that to Andrew though would be unwelcome. 

“I won’t,” Kevin promised. 

He kept his touch soft on the first few passes, barely ruffling the hair but as his fingers fully slid in to glide against Andrew's skull the other man shuddered before all at once melting. It never stopped feeling like a log fire burning warmly in his chest whenever Andrew let them be there for him. 

Seconds, minutes, whole uncountable moments passed where the only thing that Kevin wanted to focus on was the steady weight in his lap and the soothing motion of bringing a sliver of peace to Andrew’s frame. The open balcony caused a chill to run down the back of his neck but it was, would always be, worth a little discomfort to be allowed to keep this. 

So hushed in the small bubble of just existing it almost made Kevin flinch when Andrew spoke, voice slow and muffled, like he might be pressing a sleeve covered hand against his mouth. 

“You haven’t finished unpacking.” 

Kevin blinked the settled daze he had drifted into off and looked around his apartment. There were fewer boxes than what he had moved in with but sat around the edges of the room were still random piles. Books he hadn’t put onto the shelf, spare kitchenware that hadn’t made the small trip through the kitchen doorway. All non-essentials for the small-time he spent away from Exy, unimportant in filling the vacant corners of his life his two partners left. 

He could only hum, a tickling sensation of embarrassment crawling up the back of his neck. 

“It’s been weeks.” Andrew nudged with an underlying tone of curiosity. 

“I’ve been busy.” Kevin shrugged, trailing his fingers over the spot near Andrews temples that always made him shiver. The motion succeeded when Andrew all but trembled on his lap but any hope that it might have been distracting was dashed when he rolled until he was lying face-up across Kevin’s thighs. 

“You don’t like mess.” It wasn’t an accusation but Kevin tensed minutely all the same. 

“It’s not a mess.” He defended a little insulted, brow furrowing as he cast another look around. Sure, he had to nudge the pile of parts meant to make his shoe rack out of the way to get his coat closet in the mornings but-- 

“Hey.” Andrew pressed one finger into the divet of Kevin’s cheek and Kevin snapped his eyes back down immediately. 

“If you need help…” Andrew trailed off, his own brows pinching together in a look Kevin didn’t know how to read. The line of Andrew’s shoulders tensed and he almost looked annoyed, irritated. It made Kevin feel like a failure even if he couldn’t pinpoint what he had done wrong. 

“Drew,” He sighed, words and words building behind his teeth; words to reassure and maybe all the words he had been keeping clutched tight and held secret. He didn’t know what ones would spill out when he opened his mouth, lips parting and sucking in a breath before--

“You have absolutely no food except some truly atrocious flavoured protein bars.” Neil barrelled into the lounge with his hands on his hips, face teasingly put out when Kevin whipped round to look. It softened almost immediately when his eyes took in the position Andrew was in and the feather-soft smile only they got to see edged across the corners of his mouth. 

“You two look cosy.” 

“Kevin has to have some use.” Andrew drawled, though the lilt of concern from before hadn’t entirely vanished from his voice and his eyes didn’t stray from Kevin’s face. He could feel the weight of them even if he found it all of a sudden impossible to look back down and meet. He knew the words were meant as teasing but they hit his chest like hailstones all the same, tiny beats of impact. 

He didn’t say anything and he knew immediately that that was a mistake when Neil’s smile slipped from his face, arms dropping to his sides as he tilted his head. 

“What’s wrong?”

Swallowing felt like trying to digest rocks. His lies were sharp in his throat and when he opened his mouth to speak he thought he might choke on them. 

“I…” He tried and failed to say. “I forgot to go shopping.”

He had meant to, had planned every day after practice since finding out his boyfriends were coming but every day he had driven past the turn in for the store and fled. The thick fear of what might end up in his cart if he entered had kept him away. Tomorrow, he had constantly lied to himself, I'll get food tomorrow. So distracted by their arrival he had forgotten that tomorrow had never come. 

“What have you been eating?” Neil tilted his head curiously. “Your team gave you a meal plan, right?” 

He felt judged even though logically he knew that wasn’t fair. Neil and Andrew didn’t judge him, not anymore. It sat under his skin regardless, the notion that they were looking at him and the way he was living and finding it lacking. It hurt all the more because deep down, he knew he likely deserved it. 

Andrew shifted on his lap, sitting himself up and Kevin immediately missed the weight of him. 

“I grab stuff before I get home.” He rushed to say. “It’s quicker, after practice. I go with Aisling or someone else on the team.” 

It’s not quite a lie but not quite true either. It’s what he’d been doing the last few days, tagging along and accepting more invites just to avoid having to fend for himself. It’s almost comical, how his team saw that as progress when Kevin knew it was simply cowardice. 

“That must be nice,” Neil said a little stilted, eyes flicking to and away from Andrew in the way they did when communicating without words. “It’s good you’re not sitting here alone every night.”

Keeping his face neutral and his flinch stifled felt like taking a bullet.

“You can go to the store,” Andrew said as he resituated himself across Kevin’s lap and Kevin almost sighed in the sheer relief the action bought. 

“_We_ can go,” Neil argued lightly as he perched on the arm of the couch, reaching out to toy with the hair on the back of Kevin's neck. 

Andrew’s eyes drifted closed.

“I was right the first time.” 

Neil made an exaggerated gasp. “You’d abandon me in a strange city?” 

“We went there last time, it’s two blocks away.” Andrew snorted, shifting himself around to get comfortable and then cracking one eye open to look imploringly up at Kevin. He returned his hand to Andrew’s hair with a small smile. 

“Kevin won’t leave me, will you?” Neil whined.

“You don’t need Kevin.” 

The second the words were out of Andrew’s mouth both Kevin and Neil stiffened and Kevin could feel Neil’s eyes immediately turn to him. He couldn’t look back, could barely control the sudden tremor in his hands to keep combing Andrew’s hair unnoticed. He knew, of course, he knew, that it wasn’t what Andrew had meant; that he wasn’t parroting those words to be cruel. Though they still hung in the air between them like a fog, thick and cloying. 

“Kev,” Neil said quietly, thinly, the hand that was toying with Kevin’s neck slipping down to his shoulder. The almost fearful quality to his voice was jarring after the teasing of moments before and Andrew was once again opening his eyes, gaze flicking between the two of them with a confused look. 

He didn’t want to have this conversation. Not again. He didn’t want to find out whether it would go differently this time, if Neil would take back the words he had said and replace them with new ones, hurtful ones, ones that would tear the little pieces of himself he had gained with their presence back to shreds. He didn’t want to know what Andrew would say. Didn’t think he was capable of bearing the weight of the other man's rejection. 

“I’ll go,” Kevin said instead and his voice was steady even when he wasn’t, his words sure and unbothered when inside his head was spinning, spinning, spinning. 

There was silence for a long moment and Kevin felt like his insides might stretch and tear with the pressure building in him, his whole body aching for one more minute, one more day, _not yet, don’t leave me yet. _

If he met Andrew’s eyes he wouldn’t be able to hold on to the lies so he didn’t, ignored the heavyweight of his stare on his chin and ignored the almost trembling in Neil’s fingers as he curled them tight into the shoulder of Kevin’s shirt. 

“We’ll all go,” Andrew said eventually and Kevin’s and Neil’s exhale of relief was identical. 

…

The other team was violent and angry from the second the first buzzer sounded. It vividly reminded Kevin of playing with the Foxes, the rival teams that wanted so fiercely to knock them down from the perch no one thought them worthy of. It took most of the first half before anyone got a red card but the line had been danced along so finely that Kevin felt like his body was one giant bruise. His mark for the half was shorter than him, but built bigger. McKenzie was strong but not fast but seemed to always hit Kevin just where it hurt the most. 

“Fucker.” He snarled under his breath as he lost the ball and pushed his racquet into the ground to keep his feet. He took only a quick moment to glance around him at the rest of his team and even through helmets he could see the same simmering annoyance that was growing in himself. 

Reeson was fiercely working to keep his own mark away from Aisling as she fought tooth and nail for the ball Kevin had lost but was clearly struggling to keep up his momentum. He was limping slightly, favouring his left leg and Kevin knew he needed to be switched off as soon as possible. 

Aisling’s body turned and curved as she finally grabbed the ball and Kevin was righting himself and running before he could even think. Playing with Aisling was not as instinctive as playing with Neil but they were learning to read each other, to broadcast with small motions where they needed the other to be. Kevin’s mark ran with him and Kevin was faster but his legs still felt stunned from his last hit. He jumped and turned to reach the ball that Aisling had thrown realising a second too late that Rihards wasn’t close enough to deal with his mark.

He knew as soon as his feet landed that he had only a moment before he was bowled into but for all the bad, for all the pain and the dark; he was trained as a Raven. He knew where he needed to shoot with barely a look and when the ball connected with his net he was already turning and aiming and letting loose. The ball flew towards the goal but Kevin didn’t follow it’s arching path, didn't do anything but instinctively brace for the impact of a body.

The sound of gear clashing and bodies rocketing to the court floor reverberated against the plexiglass but when Kevin blinked he was still standing. The crowd roared into life at the sound of the buzzer and Kevin’s ball finding its home, taking them into the lead but Kevin turned his back on it sharply.

Splayed out on the ground were Donovan and McKenzie and Kevin cursed under his breath. 

“Are you okay?” Kevin crouched by his Captains side even as the man pushed himself up to sit, shaking his arms out a little as a grin split across his face under his helmet. 

“Peachy.” 

Kevin couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “You know you're on the wrong end of the court, right?”

“You’re welcome.” Donovan beamed and winced only a little as he scrambled to his feet. Kevin hooked a hand around his arm to help and Donovan slapped him on the back as soon as he was vertical.

“He hits like a fucking truck.” Donovan groaned, stretching himself as best as he could with the bulky gear. “How the hell are you not tenderised beef?” 

“Learning to take a hit is a vital skill as a Striker,” Kevin replied and he thought he could see Donovan roll his eyes but any retort was cut off by McKenzie pushing away from his own teammates, storming over until he was right in Donovan’s face. 

“Fucking faggot.” He snarled and shoved once into Donovan’s chest so roughly that Donovan stumbled back a step. 

Something in Kevin stalled. It might have been shock. Not at the foul language because god knows Exy was no stranger to shit talk or prejudice. Maybe because it was so familiar that for all of a second he could be standing in the middle of an orange court with Nicky a half a pitch away from him, taking the abuse from other teams like physical blows.

However, in the moment it took for him to be stunned, all hell broke loose. 

He didn’t see Aisling coming but she barrelled her way between McKenzie and Donovan in a blur, pushing hard against the opposing man's chest and practically snarling. 

“Get the fuck away from him!” She yelled, a chorus of other voices rising up around her as their team all ran to surround them. 

“Don’t be such a sore loser you fungus.” Richards spat, pushing against McKenzie’s shoulder when the man made a move like he wanted to barrel through them. 

“Hey!” Aisling snapped, knocking roughly into the side of another opposing player as they too started to crowd around them. “Control your thug before I do it for you.” 

The sound of a whistle echoed around the court as the refs made their way over to them, yelling for them to break apart even as Donovan stepped between his team and the rest with his hands raised. 

“Back off.” He ordered and he didn’t sound angry, didn’t sound offended or appalled like the rest of his team in his defense. He sounded the same calm and level he always sounded. He sounded like a Captain should when controlling his team and it made Kevin’s chest ache. How many people were expected to just bear abuse like it didn’t hurt them?

“Aisling.” He called quieter than he should have, less enraged then he should be. “Aisling, quit it before you get carded.”

Aisling rounded on him with furious eyes but the refs were pushing them all apart now and she had no choice but to follow him away from the throng, body vibrating with unspilled emotion. 

“Some things are more important than a carding Kevin,” She snapped. “Some people are more important than staying silent.” The disappointment in her eyes made chills break over his skin. He wanted to say something, anything, as she turned and walked away from him. He wanted to defend himself even as he was sure there was no defence. 

His gaze met Donovan as he looked guiltily away from her retreating back, stood already waiting at his starting point, an example of sportsmanship to the rest of his team. He looked composed and patient, an unaffected eye in a storm he had unwillingly been a part of. Kevin wondered if under his helmet his eyes had the same defeated weight as Nicky’s. 

...

He didn’t make the decision to do it until it was happening. As the team trudged through the tunnel and started emerging into the locker room Kevin reached out and grabbed Donovan's arm. 

Donovan turned to look at him with confusion and then concern. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked, ever the supportive Captain even after being the victim of prejudice not an hour before. “We won Kevin, you should be happy.” 

He wasn’t happy. He wasn’t sure what he was. There was something thick and crawling inside him, an almost tar-like weight that he couldn’t shift. It made him open and close his mouth but no words would come out, emotion stifling them even if he couldn’t name it. There was a fire trapped behind his teeth but it didn’t feel like words that wanted to come out. It was more vicious than that. 

They were alone in the tunnel now and Donovan seemed to realise that all at once as he glanced behind them. When he turned back to Kevin his whole body let out a giant sigh as he shrugged out of the grip Kevin hadn’t noticed he hadn’t let go off. 

“Do you have something to say?” Donovan asked and he looked exhausted but his voice was still the level tone he always kept when Captaining. Alone here Kevin could finally see how hard the other was trying to seem unaffected and professional but he only now looked hurt. 

The look in his eyes reminded him sickeningly again of Nicky. It reminded him of all the times people would throw his sexuality at him on the field as an insult, as a way to try and unsteady him and as a way to beat him down. Nicky would keep a smile locked firmly on his face but after, in the locker room and in the car, you could see the weight behind his eyes that every barbed word forced him to carry. 

Kevin had never spoken up. Sure, he would push other players away from his teammate the same as everyone else but he never spoke up. Never told Nicky how wrong they were, how he shouldn’t believe anything the other teams shouted at him. That Nicky was valid and accepted with them and fuck the rest of the world. He should have. Nicky had done exactly that for him, had been a listening ear when Kevin was coming to terms with not only his feelings for Neil and Andrew but his sexuality as a whole. 

Kevin felt sick and he grimaced sourly. 

“Look, if you have an issue with me being—” Donovan sighed like he was resigned to being looked down, looked at with disgust. 

“I’m Bisexual.” Kevin blurted out over the end of Donovan’s sentence and he didn’t really intend to say it, didn’t think the words before they slipped out his mouth. He only knew that he didn’t want Donovan to think Kevin was another person disgusted by him, didn’t want his Captain to think Kevin thought any part of his sexuality was a hindrance. He only wanted so fiercely in that split second to make someone else feel as accepted as Nicky always managed to make him feel. 

He snapped the back of his hand over his mouth on instinct all the same, eyes going wide.

Donovan blinked at him dumbly, all the bluster going out of him in a second and it was hard to tell who was more shocked by Kevin’s announcement. 

“Oh,” Donovan said almost softly. “I didn’t know.” 

There was an awkward stretch of seconds then, where Donovan’s eyes looked like they were recalculating everything he had assumed he knew about Kevin. This felt different than telling the other Foxes, different than telling Aisling. It felt like more of a risk. Donovan was his Captain, the one person on the team other than the Coaches that had real power to affect the matches Kevin got to play. 

Riko would have benched him in a second. Riko would have made it so Kevin wasn’t capable of doing anything except sit on the bench even quicker. 

“Are you okay?”Donovan asked carefully and Kevin forced himself to push all thoughts of Riko away. He lowered his hand and the complete lack of judgement on Donovan's face made him feel instantly embarrassed by his reaction. 

“I’m not out.” He said quietly. “I mean, I am, to some people, the important people but I’m not…” He couldn’t help the way his voice faded out over a shaky breath. 

“Hey.” Donovan stepped closer and pressed one hand on Kevin's shoulder, looking him steadily in the face. “I’m not going to tell, okay? You can calm down.” 

“I know,” Kevin said with no hesitation and for all his worry not a second before, he knew that was true. 

Donovan seemed surprised by that and gave Kevin a small smile. 

“Thank you for trusting me.” He said with a squeeze before letting go and straightening back up. “Not that I don’t appreciate you sharing but, why now?” 

Kevin didn’t have an answer for that question that was simple. 

“I had a teammate at college,” He tried to put into words. “I never said anything when people would abuse him.”

A complicated look took over Donovan's face. “You don’t owe me anything just because one asshole was running his mouth.” 

“I know.” Kevin felt frustrated and tugged once on his sharply. “I’m just sorry.” 

That only seemed to confuse Donovan more.

“What for?”

“For being too afraid to stand up for you on the court.” And there it was, the suffocating emotion that Kevin couldn’t get to settle. Shame. 

“It’s not your job to put yourself at risk,” Donovan said in a carefully neutral voice. “I’m the Captain. I can handle one homophobic fuckwit.” 

“You shouldn’t have to,” Kevin argued. 

“No, no one should.” He agreed. His stance shifted then, arms coming up across his chest in a gesture Kevin was intimately familiar with. It was protective, guarding. 

“This is not the first time I’ve had to deal with Trevor McKenzie.”

“He’s like that every game?” Kevin knew the stats of every player in the league back to front and sideways but he paid so little attention to anything else. He didn’t know more of their histories than needed, he didn’t know which players had conflicts and which teams clashed over more than just goals scored. 

“I don’t know,” Donovan answered, and it sounded apprehensive. “I’ve only played against him professionally a couple of times.” 

The way he emphasised professionally made Kevin frown but before he could ask Donovan was continuing. 

“He was the Captain of my college team. He hated me.” Donovan admitted bitterly. “He hated that I was gay and hated that I didn’t hide it. He didn’t even want to be Captain but took it because he knew that I did.” He paused there and Kevin could see his jaw clench and release like he was grinding his teeth. 

His next words were even slower, measured and careful.

“His father was our Coach.”

Kevin didn’t know what the right questions to ask were, didn’t know what the right way to approach this conversation was. People didn’t come to him for the support that they often so readily offered to him. He tried because it was the only thing he could do. 

“Did your Coach know you were gay?” 

Donovan nodded and Kevin felt a growing pit form in his stomach.

“Did he know you wanted the position. That his son didn’t?” 

Donovan nodded again and while his stance stayed strong and straight, his eyes had become even more cautious and his arms locked tighter around his middle. How many people had lashed out at Donovan for the conclusions Kevin was just starting to make?

“Your Coach was wrong and he shouldn’t have treated you like less just because you were gay.” 

It was a simple and obvious conclusion. It was a basic concept that his own father would never need to be told, a practice that should be as standard as any rule governing any team. It was a notion that Kevin knew was often a fantasy for players: an environment that not only didn’t punish but actively encouraged differences and diversity. It was the fear that kept Kevin locked away from his own desires for years, a fear that kept him always one foot in the closet and terrified about the consequences of being wholly open with what he felt. 

Donovan’s arms lowered in a slow movement and a hundred things passed over his expression as his eyes tracked over Kevin like he was trying to figure out a puzzle. 

“You’re not what I expected you to be.” He settled on saying, a small crease appearing between his eyes. “You really aren’t a Raven anymore are you?”

Kevin swallowed hard. “I’m trying not to be.” A horrible thought came to mind. “Did you expect me to be like him, McKenzie?”

The guilty way Donovan shuffled gave him the answer all too clearly. There was, shamefully, no part of Kevin that could justify being angry about the assumption. 

“I'm trying to be,” He started and then backtracked. “I _will _be better.” 

He wasn’t convinced anything about his past interactions with his Captain would lend itself to him being believed but Donovan shockingly, gratefully, grinned the start of something proud at him. 

“I know.” 

…

His apartment is dark and silent when he got home from the match and for a moment the warm feeling from his connection with Donovan kept him from feeling the keening absence of his partners as completely. 

The sight of their retreating backs was just as painful as the first time and the ragged hole in his heart felt raw all over again. He wanted to call them and tell them about the match, knowing Neil was probably waiting for him to pick it all apart, but mostly he wanted to tell them about Donovan. He wanted to tell them that he tried and for one small second he was brave. 

He wanted to call Nicky and tell him thank you. _Thank you for helping me. Thank you for teaching me how to maybe help someone else. _

His phone chimed with a text almost as if summoned. 

It was from Dan. He immediately felt guilty for the quick disappointment that swirled in his stomach. His relationship with Dan had always been a rocky one. She never appreciated his harsh way of giving criticism, though she may have come to understand it. Kevin himself often found it hard to handle her inability to stop treating the Foxes with kiddie gloves. 

They had learnt a little, at the end, to understand and tolerate each other. Their relationships with Wymack were vastly different but he knew how much she regarded his own Dad like her’s too. Wymack was important to her, as she was to him. There were so many ways Kevin was still learning how to be a son and realising he didn’t need to be threatened by Dan—and vice versa—was a small but significant turning point for them. 

He felt a little less disappointed when he opened the text. 

**Forgot I had these. Thought you might like them.**

The short message was followed by two photographs and for a second he gripped his phone so tight it dug into the skin of his palm. 

He’d never seen either of the two photos before. He didn’t think they were hanging up in the lounge at the Foxhole Court, they would have noticed them. Likely Andrew might have even torn them down. 

It was all three of them in both shots. One of them was taken inside someone's dorm room, lighting the strange way it was when they watched a movie together. It was taken from across the room but the glow from the television lit up the area just enough to give the whole scene a hazy quality. Kevin himself was sitting in one corner of the couch. Space must have been sparse that night because Neil was perched in his lap, legs slung sideways and his head tucked under Kevin’s chin. His mouth was parted on a smile, maybe a small laugh or the end of a sentence. He looked soft, comfortable, unweighted. 

Andrew was on the floor in front of them, back against the sofa but he had wedged himself into the gap between Kevin’s parted legs. His hands were wrapped around Kevin’s ankles and Kevin can almost remember the feel of small circles being rubbed into the sensitive skin. Andrew's face was half cast into shadows but Kevin could still see the small smile in his eyes, the little show of warm contentment. 

When Kevin could drag his eyes from them to his own face he was met with his own delicate smile. He’s looking down at Neil and he looked enraptured by him. He quite often was about the pair of them as a whole, and even separate. One of his hands was resting lightly in Andrew's hair and this must have been a good day for them to be this open around other people. 

He never noticed Dan take the picture that night. He was suddenly so immensely grateful that she took the shot and didn’t draw attention to them. It took a moment of Kevin swallowing hard before he could tear his eyes away to the other photo. 

This one was taken outside. It's one of them all huddled together in a group by the Maserati. He remembered that day, the match they had just won that had been hard and brutal but shining in their victory. Kevin had his arm over Neil’s shoulders who had his head thrown back laughing at something someone else had said. He didn’t remember what it was. He didn’t remember noticing at the time the expression on Andrews' face as he looked at them. It wasn’t a smile, but there was something close around his eyes. He was leaning against the car but his body was turned so his legs were touching Kevin’s. Kevin’s own head was turned in Andrews direction, dipped down low like he might be about to speak. 

Deep loneliness curled into his chest and Kevin had to remind himself to breathe. He knew Dan didn’t send these photos to hurt him but it hurt all the same, the reminder of how close they used to be and how far they were now. He should have appreciated those moments more, should have noticed the curve and weight of their smiles and absorbed every brush of their bodies against his. 

**Thank you. **

His fingers trembled as he clicked out of the message. 

In a few short presses, he had the photo of them in the darkened dorm as his home screen, a little secret hidden away for only him to see. He wondered if they had any photos of him, if they cared enough to want to be reminded of them when they open their phones. He supposed not, not with Neil’s avoidance of the device in general and Andrew's apathy. It hurt even though it was an unfair thought and he had no evidence that his fears are true. He darkened the screen all the same and left it silent on the kitchen counter. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (pssstt if anyone wants to draw those two photographs for me I might just explode with happiness!)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to admit that lately writing this has been really hard but I am determined i will finish it! I've never finished a multi chapter fic and I promised myself this wouldn't end up like as well. So here's the next installment, hopefully with another one soon to follow! 
> 
> Need I thank Essence29 anymore? I will anyway... THANK YOU :) 
> 
> Amidst everything that is happening globally right now, I hope everyone is safe and well. Its a confusing and scary time so please take care of yourself and others.

“When will I see you again?” It was only here with the early morning light just starting to soften the room, cocooned in blankets and arms that Kevin could let the question slip out; a little weaker than he might have been comfortable with but the day wasn’t yet real enough for walls to be completely up. 

Neil hummed and pushed himself closer to Kevin’s chest, arching like a cat when Kevin kept up the slow trail of his knuckles across his spine. 

“The seasons about to pick up.” He answered sleepily. “Classes too.”

Weeks then. Maybe months. Maybe not at all but it was too early, too soft and simple in the bed to let such thoughts ruin it yet. Andrew shifted against his other side and Kevin turned to bury his nose in blond hair as lips were pressed against his bare shoulder. 

“Andrew has that meeting with a team scout in a couple weeks.” Neil said even though Kevin was already aware, had tried and failed to pick apart the team's merits to Andrew for a whole hour the night before. 

“You have an away game the same night.” Neil added. 

That...that was new. He hadn’t put the two together, hadn’t really thought about where he would be during that time. It was almost too much of a ridiculous coincidence, too much good luck and much too soon to hope for.

“We'll be in the same city.” Kevin declared dumbly and when he craned his neck down to look at Andew’s face it was to see closed eyes and a neutral expression.

“I know.” Andrew said and of course he did. Kevin had sent them his current game schedule weeks ago and Andrew never forgot a thing, especially when it came to the people he devoted time to. 

Did the fact that he hadn’t mentioned it mean he simply had no interest? He would only be in town for a short while and his meeting would surely finish long before the start of Kevin’s game. A game that Andrew would have very little interest in attending on his best day. 

“Are you going with him?” Kevin asked Neil instead of following that train of thought down its spiral. 

“No,” Neil hummed. “Wymack, and I quote, said Andrew doesn’t need a babysitter but the Foxes do. My Captaincy calls.” 

Kevin couldn’t help but snort. “Since when doesn’t Andrew need a babysitt—hey!” 

He flinched as Andrew pinched him in the side. 

“Rude.”

Neil laughed into the skin of Kevin’s chest and the warm blow of air made him shiver. “Want me to kiss it better?” 

“You weren’t the one who hurt me.” Kevin pouted, trying not to smile as he saw Andrew move in the corner of his eye, propping himself up on one elbow. 

“Baby.” He accused but he ducked his head down a moment later, lips feather soft on the spot where Kevin’s hip started to disappear under the sheets. 

“Better?” 

“No.” Kevin let the smile break free as he caught Andew’s eye. “I think you need to try harder Minyard.” 

Neil’s laughter was bright and Andrew’s mouth was fire and for a moment, just a moment, everything was warm like the still rising sun. 

…

It shouldn’t be a surprise that watching Neil and Andrew walk out his front door was just as shattering as it was the first time. 

Repeating the same steps and hoping for a different outcome was an exercise in futility. Kevin knew this, knew it with all the years spent learning and adjusting and testing his skills on the court. Maybe this time it was worse, because as he stood in front of the mirror after, with the presence of them rapidly fading, he couldn’t find anything inside himself that believed he would ever have more than this. 

He’d kissed Neil with both hands framing his face as if he could keep him locked between his palms. Neil had fisted his own hands in Kevin’s T-shirt, sighing heavily when they had parted and their foreheads had stayed pressed together for a precious moment. 

He’d walked them to the same door he’d walked them to last time and had to fight the ugly, pleading sound that had tried to rise in his throat. Neil had wrapped his arms around his waist and hugged Kevin tight, letting out a sigh as he breathed; as Andrew had practically mirrored the motion a moment later. 

He’d let Andrew tangle his fingers in his hair and bite at his lips until they had gone numb, the faint indentation of teeth making him shudder when he traced his tongue over them. He should have asked for more, asked for him to mark him in a way that time wouldn’t take away from him. 

His hands itched and his throat crawled. Every inch of him strained for something to ease the weight that was piling on top of him with every breath he struggled to keep steady. Maybe it was addiction, the way the two men made him feel safe and protected. Maybe the way all his fears and insecurities seemed to almost melt into the back of his brain was a drug he had simply replaced his last vice with. 

Was that why he was already trembling with the need for a drink? Because deep down, he had never really gotten better? Just found a new crutch to prop up the broken little pieces of himself to get through each day? He didn’t know what that made him except unworthy, incapable. They didn’t deserve to be used as a prescription for Kevin’s sickness and Kevin; well if Kevin started to think about what he deserved, he didn’t know he’d find a way back to the surface. 

...

“Here.” 

Kevin looked up from tying his shoes, the line of his neck feeling almost too heavy to hold, to see Donovan standing over him, a piece of scrap paper held out towards him. It was a torn corner from an old play plan and Kevin looked at it and then his Captain, raising one brow. 

“Thanks?”

“Turn it over.” Donovan rolled his eyes but the way he fidgeted on his feet betrayed the fact that he was, for some reason, nervous. 

Kevin turned it over and paused. 

“It’s an address.” 

“My address.” Donovan clarified. “Which I’m now realising I could have just texted you.” 

There was a none to subtle snort and both of them turned at the same time to see Aisling leaning against her locker, hip cocked and arms folded as she looked at them without any attempt to hide the exasperation on her face. 

“By all means,” She teased, waving a hand at them, “Continue. This is entertaining.” 

“Fuck off.” Kevin said with no heat. She just grinned at him in response. 

“Don’t you have somewhere to be Watts?” Donovan folded his own arms and gave her a look he was more prone to giving during drills. 

“Nope.” Aisling popped the word and grinned even wider. “It’s like watching a shit mating dance.” 

“It’s not,” Donovan sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose between two fingers. “Out.” He ordered. “Go on, before I give you an extra set of drills tomorrow.”

“She could use the practice. Her precision throwing has been hanging to the left lately.” Kevin remarked and had he been paying attention more, had been less distracted he might have had time to stop the critique from slipping out. He was supposed to be trying harder to keep his words to himself, to keep the ugly and harsh sides of his personality leashed. 

He braced for annoyance or disappointment and flinched at the sudden sound of Aisling shrieking. She kicked out a foot for his ankle that he easily dodged and the sound of her letting out a light laugh made him release a breath in relief. 

“See,” He said as he dodged behind Donovan to escape her continuing attack. “That was frankly embarrassing.”

“Oh and what shall we call you hiding behind our Captain?” Aisling tried to grab his arm and missed when Kevin swerved around Donovan's shoulder, snorting when Aisling ran straight into the man instead. 

“Hey!” Donovan cried, trying to sound stern even as his eyes shone with fondness. “Twenty laps to anyone that bowls me over!” 

“I don’t think Aisling could manage twe--” 

Aisling let out something that could only be compared to a war cry before throwing herself through the air and on to Kevin’s back, arms wrapping around his neck so suddenly that he had to grab onto the nearest locker lest she take them both down to the ground. 

“Take it back!” She demanded, securing her legs around his waist and clinging. 

“Aisling!” Kevin cried, struggling to straighten. Donovan made a valiant effort to help support him but ultimately failed when he couldn't contain his own laughter, pressing a hand over his mouth to hide it when Kevin glared. 

“Take it back.” Aisling repeated and Kevin’s legs felt weak trying to hold in the almost overwhelming warmth and amusement that was swelling in him while keeping them both balanced. He felt her infectious energy chipping away at the dark cloud that had been following him around the entire morning--the entire time since Andrew and Neil had walked away from him again--and it was almost addicting, the sensation of for just a moment, not having to focus on the weight of his loneliness. 

“Okay, okay!” He relented. “I take it back!” 

The bright and beaming smile that spread across Aisling’s face when she slid back to the ground was so fiercely radiant that for a moment it made all the air in his chest leave him. Her eyes were crinkled in the corners and her hands were supporting her stomach as she laughed. Kevin could only stare, all at once amazed and stunned by it. 

He had done that. A few months ago, a few weeks ago, it would have seemed like an impossible scenario. Kevin Day who didn’t know how to interact with people outside of an Exy court. Kevin Day who was prickly and cold. Kevin Day who didn’t know how to make friends. Standing there in the locker room in the stadium of his professional team, shoulder to shoulder with not one but two of his teammates; laughing like nothing bad could touch them in that moment. 

It felt almost too good to be true and as he watched Aisling sling an arm around Donovan's waist, stifling her giggles in his shirt, he felt both a contentment and a longing for the feeling. 

“Earth to Day?” 

A hand landed on his shoulder and Kevin blinked back to awareness of Donovan looking at him curiously. 

“Where did you go?” He asked and he sounded so earnest and interested that Kevin didn’t second guess the honesty that spilled out. 

“I like this,” He said, looking them both in the eye one by one. “Being here.” 

Aisling stuck her bottom lip out in the falsimily of a pout, placing a hand over her chest. “You break my heart.”

Kevin couldn’t help but frown. “I’m sorry.”

“No, no, no.” Aisling reached forwards and placed a hand on each one of his shoulders, her grip as firm and sure as it was around the handle of a racquet. 

“I like you being here too.” She said each word while looking him dead in the eyes, her tone even and sincere. She didn’t sound like she was teasing him, as if she was setting him up for a joke or prank, waiting for a moment to pull the words back and laugh at his tiny sprouting hope. 

He raised his hands and let them rest them on her forearms and smiled at her, letting it grow as she smiled too. Standing there, he was struck by how warm she was, in soul and in the way she radiated comfort. She was similar to Abby in that, a presence that made the air around them feel a little less chilly, a little less bleak. 

“You’ll bring me to tears Day.” She teased, squeezing once before releasing him. “I have a booty call with the fiance that I’m now late for now, so me and my needs have to bounce.” She laughed wickedly as Donovan made a gagging sound, waving her fingers and winking as she breezed past them and out the room. She was gone in a blink but Kevin could feel the steadying effect of her presence lingering. 

“Do you have plans tonight?” Donovan asked as the door closed behind her. He looked less nervous now, less unsure. Kevin wondered briefly if that had been Aisling’s goal and decided she was not only sneaky enough for it but also kind enough. 

Kevin thought about the empty apartment and almost shuddered at how little he wanted to be there. He hadn’t been able to secure plans with anyone else and the thought of spending another night ordering take out to avoid the dangerous temptation of going into a store seemed already exhausting. 

“No.” He shrugged, afraid to sound eager, afraid to sound like a charity case. 

“I can’t really cook anything interesting but my terrible portion control means there’s always plenty to spare.” Donovan offered still a little timidly but in good humour. “I can heat us up som leftovers and we can watch some of the new tapes Coach gave me?” 

It was, frankly, the best offer Kevin could have gotten. 

“I’d like that.” He smiled, feeling encouraged when Donovan gave him the same look in return. 

“About six?” He suggested. 

Kevin nodded. “That works.”

“I’m easy to find but if you get lost give me a call, yeah?” Donovan ordered as he started to walk backwards in the direction of the door. 

“I will.” Kevin agreed and as Donovan turned out of sight, he looked down at the little slip of paper between his fingers and felt a little like he had achieved something. 

…

It didn’t occur to him to be nervous until the exact second he was raising his hand to knock on the front of Donovan’s door, blue like the colour of his team. 

“Your door.” He blurted when it was pulled open, voice pitched too high and clearly taking Donovan by surprise as he startled before grinning a little. 

“A bit on the nose, right? But it was chipped as all hell when I moved in and I didn't know anything about picking paint colours.” 

“It’s nice.” Kevin said a little lamely, all of a sudden aware that he had arrived empty handed. Was he supposed to bring something? Abby always bought wine when she and Wymack went to Dan and Matt’s for dinner he knew. His hands tingled with the weight of being empty and in the back of his mind couldn’t help but let him know he’d missed the perfect excuse to visit the store. If he had had one glass out of politeness then surely that would have been okay? If it had helped the shuddering, churning feeling in his stomach then all the better. 

“Come in.” Donovan encouraged him, waving Kevin forward with an arm and stepping aside. “I have the tapes set up and food is nearly done.”

He closed the door behind Kevin with a click that Kevin felt in his chest and ushered him towards one door while he steered off to another. 

“Get comfortable alright. I’ll be back.” 

He hadn’t given it any thought, what the type of home his Captain might keep but he was sure he wouldn’t have come to think of this. The living room he was turned towards was an explosion of life and colour. The walls were covered in paintings and posters, some hung in intricate frames and others stuck with what looked like different types of tape. None of the furniture matched in colour or style but the way they all sat curled together cut the room into a warm nook. Deep green and mustard yellow, royal blue and a blanket that looked like seafoam, there was no other word to describe the effect than cosy. Just standing in the doorway felt like entering into a hug. 

It was everything Kevin’s place wasn’t. Brimming with personality and history, a reflection of who Donovan was and where he had come from. Two tall bookcases stood on either side of the television already paused at the start of a match, stuffed full with books but it was the abundance of plants that Kevin couldn’t help but find his eyes drawn to. 

Winding down and around in tendrils the plants reached and nestled into all the little spaces between books and nick nacks. There were others too, in large pots on the floor and little holders on tables. Some were even hanging down from the ceiling. 

There was so much vibrant and vibrating life in such a small room and Kevin, he’d never felt so nearly dead as he did looking at everything he didn’t know how to be. A person, full and complete with quirks and habits and joy for something other than Exy. 

What could he possibly hope to have in common with Donovan? 

He was hit with the sudden panicking feeling of failing. He’s never known how to do this, find common ground with another person. He was never taught how to make friends, real friends, friends that weren’t forced into his orbit and tied to him for survival or in trade.

It’s never bothered him before but in this moment, he wanted. He wanted to be the type of person who could be friends with his team, his Captain. The moment in the locker room stuck in his mind and all the emotions that had come with it but the surety of his ability to keep it had slipped. 

He didn’t notice he was moving until he was in front of the one of the book cases, hand reaching up to lightly trace a deep green vine as his eyes roamed the titles. Donovan's reading taste seemed to be as eclectic as his decorating style and there was no obvious method of organising that Kevin could see. Cook books were wedged in between crime novels and a pile of astronomy textbooks were supported by a poetry book that looked heavy enough to break your toes. 

He couldn’t tell whether Donvan was just indecisive or if he really found the space and freedom to enjoy so many things. If he simply allowed himself to do something Kevin had never learnt to do correctly and indulge in a plethora of interests simply because it entertained him to do so. 

“The plants are a lot, I know.”

Kevin couldn’t help but jump as Donovan came into the room and pulled his hand away with a flare of guilt. 

“They’re nice.” He said in a rushed breath as Donovan set two plates down on a table, looking up at Kevin with a strange expression when he straightened. 

Kevin watched the movement feeling like he was the one being monitored, studied. Could Donovan see all the ways that Kevin already didn’t know how to do this? Didn’t know how to not offend or always say the wrong thing. 

“Are you alright?” Donovan asked with a small frown. 

Kevin could only nod mutely. Donovan's gaze was heavy as he eyed Kevin in return, mouth pulling down at the corners and his frown deepening. 

“If you don’t want--” 

“I have that book.” Kevin blurted out quickly, swinging back to the bookcase and letting his hand shoot up to the book he’d been eyeing before Donovan had returned. He could feel the sudden confused and surprised air from Donovan and trembled. 

There was a moment of awkward silence and then, “Which one?”

“This.” He said in an oddly small voice. He couldn’t bring himself to say the title, just tapped the spine. “I _used_ to have it anyway, back at... ” He hesitated over the end of his sentence.

“”Palmetto?” Donovan offered and he sounded unsure, likely confused by the sudden switch in topic. He sounded like he had moved closer and Kevin tried not to care about someone being at his back. 

Kevin forced himself not to shudder. “No. Edgar Allen.” 

He heard Donovan suck in a breath behind him. Kevin never talked about the Nest, not with any one on his team. The word raven was thrown around occasionally but Kevin never referred to his time there. He wanted so badly to be separate from it, had spent so much of his last year at Palmetto learning to do just that. 

It had been easier, with Andrew and Neil at his side, to leave that part of himself behind. He was only now learning that letting go alone was a completely different monster.

“I had to leave it behind,” he forced his dry mouth to say, “but it was one of my favourites.” 

“Mine too.” Donovan said and though Kevin didn’t turn to look, he could tell that Donovan was right by his shoulder now. 

“I have others, at home, I never got around to replacing the ones I lost though.” He wasn’t sure why. He often remembered the titles with longing but purchasing new ones had never crossed his mind. 

“Kevin.” Donovan said, voice thick with something that was starting to sound like worry. 

“I was a history major.” Kevin cut over him before he could say something that would cause Kevin to lose whatever nerve he currently had. “It was the only thing apart from Exy that I really loved learning. Everything else was just a necessity.”

“Kevin, look at me.” Donovan tried and Kevin could feel his hand hover near the back of his shoulder. 

Kevin grit his teeth against a pressure building in his throat. 

“What was your major?” 

There was a beat of silence before Donovan spoke gently.

“Anthropology.” 

It suited him, Kevin thought. Donovan was always so intune with the team and his players, seemed to understand people in a way Kevin could never hope to.

“Kevin, what's wrong?” 

Kevin forced himself to turn away from the shelf, plastering on a smile that had fooled every camera he’d ever had shoved in his face.

“Nothing. Everything’s fine.” 

The look Donovan gave him was disbelieving and oddly distraught. His arms twitched at his side like he wanted to reach for Kevin, to do what he didn’t know. 

“I don’t believe you.” 

It wasn’t said with malice or anger but Kevin’s smile dropped away in an instant regardless, the strings of his mask seemingly cut without his consent and the sheer amount of _fear_ that created in his chest was overwhelming. 

“I…” He tried to say. 

“Hey,” Donovan reached out towards Kevin’s arm and he flinched away from it, slammed in a moment back to the day in the locker room when they had played out the same motion. The expression on Donovan’s face now was almost identical and he raised his hand slowly the same way he had then. The dawning spread of understanding in his eyes made Kevin feel sick to his stomach. 

“I have to go.” His feet were moving him before the words had even started to form, dodging round Donovan before his Captain could even so much as blink. It took three tries to fumble his way with the handle on the front door but the quick sound of Donovan following him made him wrench it open even as his fingers shook. 

“Kevin!” Donovan called at his back and Kevin couldn’t look back, couldn’t stop, couldn’t let anything else slip from him that he couldn’t afford to not be able to take back. It was a mistake to think he could veer away from the tightrope his life was balanced on, could take on any more weight than what he was already struggling to carry. 

“Kevin wait!” Donovan snapped and it was easier to pretend it was anger in his voice and not concern. His arm was pulled sharply and even as Kevin turned to tug himself free he was released, Donovan taking the opening to shove something into Kevin’s arms. He nearly dropped it before he caught hold of the item on instinct, frowning when looking down revealed it to be the book that had started the night's spiral. He was so stunned that for a moment his feet locked and he could only stand and stare down at the book. 

“I can’t take this.” He eventually balked shakily, looking up at Donovan with what he knew were wide eyes.

“You can.” Donovan argued as he shuffled on his feet and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. He looked both embarrassed and like he was holding himself back. His whole body was held tight and leaning away from Kevin, held open. He was trying to look unthreatening, Kevin realized. 

“Why would you give this to me?” He whispered. 

“Because it will mean more to you than it does to me.” Donovan said like it was the simplest thing, like his voice didn’t immediately punch a whole through Kevin’s whole being. 

“I don’t know what just happened Kevin but you’re not alone okay, I can--””

But Kevin couldn’t bear to hear anything else, couldn’t find the strength to hear all the things his mind whispered to him that he wanted to only have them taken away later when Donovan realised that taking on Kevin was a mistake many before him had come to regret. 

He ran; and gripped the book in his hands until the pages cut. 

…

There was a gas station ten minutes from Donovan’s house. It took him a little less than five to push through the doors and throw far too much money on the counter. He didn’t remember speaking but when he left a bottle neck was gripped so tightly in his left hand he could every ridge of it through the paper. 

It felt like something had been shattered in his chest, like a part of himself had shifted and torn. Was this what it felt like? To let yourself be vulnerable in front of someone who you didn’t know could catch you? His evening with Donovan had knocked something loose in him that made him both want to scream and drown in the bottle clasped in his hands; anything to dull the sharp edge of being known, of being seen. 

He didn’t know whether he found a moment of clarity to call a cab or if he stumbled blind and senseless the whole way home, but when he pushed into his apartment he crashed to his living room floor like his strings had been cut. The book skittered across the ground and knocked into one of the many boxes holding his own. It was different this time, holding the bottle shakily and his hands could barely pull the cap free. It didn’t feel like relief when he took the first pull but punishment. 

He didn’t know how to change, not completely. The list of things he wanted was an ever growing list that he couldn’t find a way to hold on to when he knew he didn’t deserve them to begin with. 

He had no idea who he was dialling until the call was picked up. He could recognise the person on the other end by breath alone, had clung to that very sound more nights than either of them should ever have had to have suffered in terrified silence. 

“_Kevin?_” Jean said sleepily and only then did Kevin glance at the clock. 

It was nearly one in the morning and even later where Jean was currently living. Where had that time gone? Where had he mindlessly dragged his body before finally leading himself home. 

“I’m sorry,” He rushed to say, cursing how his voice came out as thin as his grasp on reality currently felt. “I forgot it was so late.”

“_Early._” Jean hummed and there was the rustle of sheets being moved. “_Go back to sleep, soleil._” Jean mumbled away from the phone and a sickening wave of jealousy crept over Kevin. Of course it wasn’t just Jean he was disturbing but Jeremy. He could almost hear Jeremy answer but then there was the click of a door closing and everything went quiet again. 

“_What’s going on?_” Jean asked and he sounded less sleepy as urgency crept into his voice. “_Has something happened?_” 

“No.” Kevin rushed to say, pushing fingers into his eyes and gritting his teeth. “No, I just,”

He just wanted to hear someone, anyone, who might even slightly understand what was eating away at the inside of him. His head felt fuzzy already and in the space of his unfinished sentence he quickly gulped down another mouthful. 

“Are you okay?” He asked over the burn in his throat, swirling the bottle shakily until the lights of his ceiling shined off it. 

“_Of course._” Jean answered like it was as simple as that. Maybe it had become for him. 

“No,” Kevin shook his head and the room spun so harshly he let himself fall back against the floor, not caring as vodka spilled onto his carpet. “I mean like, really okay?” 

There was a long pause and Kevin thought he could imagine the downward turn of Jean's mouth, the lines that creased his forehead when he was working something out. He had committed that look to memory during every test they studied for and every play they memorized. 

“_Are you?_” Jean asked him instead, words careful. 

“I’m fine.” Kevin couldn’t help but snort a little at that. He threw the last of his drink down his throat, some of it slipping down his chin as he barely sat up to do it and cringed at the burn. 

“_You can’t lie to me, I know you too well._” Jean said like that bit of information wasn’t borne of years of shared abuse. 

“Do you still remember?” Kevin asked instead and his tongue was loose with words he didn’t know he was itching to say. Jean didn’t need to be told what Kevin was asking about, he rarely ever had to be. 

“_I will never forget._” 

The words didn’t sound as painful as Kevin might have thought they would. 

“_Kevin,_” Jean started and there was something in his voice then, a lilt of concern or trepidation that had Kevin aching. This conversation was a mistake. The whole phone call was a mistake. He’d been trying so hard to hide himself from Neil and Andrew and he’d gone and called probably the only other person who could see through him just as easily. He wanted to tell Jean that he was okay, he wanted to rewind time and hurl his phone from the nearest window. 

Jean hissed out a breath through his teeth sharply.

“_You are worrying me._” 

“I’m sorry.” Kevin mumbled back with a slick feeling of shame.

“_It has taken a long time,” _Jean started and if he were here Kevin thought he might cower away from the steel in his tone._ “Too long of a time, but I have learnt that the desire to make a life for myself is something I will not let Riko continue to take away from me. Not in death.”_

The sound of Riko’s name in Jean's familiar accent made him tremble. 

“He didn’t deserve to die.”

“_No one gets what they deserve._” Jean snapped back in French. His mother tongue always took over when he was emotional and the well known sound of the other language was both comforting and crushing. “_You can claw for what you want if you try hard enough though._”

“How?” 

“_By deciding each day that you will no longer allow yourself to be beaten to the ground._” Jean said strongly and Kevin wondered when he had blinked and missed the flames that had grown in Jean. 

He was stronger than Kevin, so much stronger than Kevin ever gave him credit for being. Sure, he survived Riko’s abuse for years, survived the Nest because he didn’t know how to do anything else; but when they had freed him… he had been afraid, for a while after, that Jean would escape the Nest but not manage to cope with really living. It seemed it was just another thing Kevin was wrong about. 

“_Kevin._” Jean sighed, slipping back into English as he took a deep breath. “_What is wrong?_” 

“Nothing,” Kevin sniffed, turning his eyes down to the now empty bottle against his side. “It’s just been a long day.” 

“_Do you need me to call Neil or Andrew?_” 

There was nothing more that Kevin wanted to hear than their voices but they would see through him in all of a second. Jean might have known about Kevin’s problems with drinking, had surely seen him in the throes of a bender, but he hadn’t been there to see Kevin fight through it, didn’t know what Kevin sounded like when he was hurtling off the ledge. It was possibly the only reason he couldn’t tell that there was a bottles worth swimming through his bloodstream. 

“No, it’s okay, I’m okay.” 

“_I do not know whether you should be alone._” Jean told him. “_You do not sound--_”

“I had a nightmare that’s all.” Kevin cut over him. It was only a lie because he had yet to go to sleep though he was growing familiar again with the brutality of his resting mind. “It messed with me a little but I’m okay, I promise.” The words burned his tongue on the way out. 

Jean was silent for a long moment, like he wasn’t sure what words he wanted to offer Kevin. Sympathy was something still new to them, as was comfort not forced from a necessity to get the other one up and back on a black court. 

“_Jeremy,_” Jean started and Kevin wondered if he realised how awed his voice sounded from just uttering his partner’s name. “_He helps, some days he’s the only thing that helps. Neil and Andrew, I think they help you too?_” 

“Of course.” Kevin swallowed. 

“_I wonder why then, have you not called them instead of me?_” 

“You’re my friend.” Kevin answered without hesitation and the stunned quiet over the line let him know that Jean was aware, as much as Kevin, that they’d never explicitly used that word between them before. Their relationship had always been a hard thing to define, never worse than when Riko was gone and the choice of being in each other's lives rested solely on them. 

“_You are my friend._” Jean echoes and Kevin thought he could hear the whisper of a smile in his voice. “_And as your friend Kevin I am telling you, it is okay to lean on the people who care for you._” 

“As easy as that?” Kevin couldn’t help but scoff a little. 

“_Learning to let Jeremy in was one of the hardest things I have ever had to do._” Jean admitted. “_But he was the single point of Sun in my life for a long time._” 

“And now?”

“_There are many things I did not think I would get to experience Kevin._” He paused for all of a second. “_You. You being more to me than something needed for my continued survival._” 

“I’m sorry.” Kevin wished there were stronger words for him to give, more he could say or do to take back all the hurt he had put Jean through because of his own inadequacy. 

“_I have had all the apologies that I need from you._” Jean rebuked him softly. “_Call them Kevin, they would want to hear from you when something is wrong._” 

Kevin bit down hard on the urge to tell Jean that for the things Kevin had done, he didn’t think that could still be true. 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A mostly timely update? What is this madness! 
> 
> Thank you to Essence29 for helping me finish this off and for always getting so excited about updates :)

Going to Exy practise was supposed to be the one thing in his day that made any sort of sense, bought him any calm and gave him a way to out run everything that spun so fast inside his head. He had, like most things, ruined it. 

Donovan didn’t approach him the first day, nor the second. The suffocating tightness in his chest threatened to undo him, the waiting and fruitless planning of what he might say spiking a near constant state of anxiety. By some mercy by the end of the week Kevin managed to stop feeling like he might choke everytime he forced himself through the stadium doors as no confrontation seemed forthcoming. The looks Donovan gave him though, that never went away. The weight of his eyes followed Kevin nearly every step he took and the haunted way they appraised him quickly stopped Kevin from ever making eye contact. 

Aisling knew something was wrong, that much was obvious. What was less obvious was why she was holding her tongue, sticking close to Kevin's side but being suspiciously silent in voicing all the questions he could see her practically overflowing with. He didn’t know whether Donovan had ordered her silence but the possibility made him feel gratitude for the peace even as annoyance couldn’t help but build from the coddling. He knew he didn’t have a right to feel either. 

Time slipped and spiralled past him until their next match was causing excited ripples through the locker room and spurring their practices with renewed energy. Their next opponents were a team that habitually thrashed them but the changes to their lineup filled the team with a new confidence. Kevin knew how much expectation there was on him to take them further in the league this year and he let that weight distract him, let that be the only goal he allowed himself to focus on. 

He was good at Exy, great even. His whole life had made him into this, a tool to be used on the court in the most effective way. It was why he had been signed, why he was tolerated. It was the only contribution he could make that actually mattered. His entire career was a spectator sport from the thousands of fans that followed his games to the ever watching eye of the Moriyamas. 

He was Kevin Day and would bleed Exy until the day it killed him. There was, after all, no other option. 

…

_“Can I kiss you?”_

_A plume of smoke was blown into Kevins face and he turned into his collar to cough, glaring at Andrew when he managed to stop. _

_“You could have just said no.” He accused but his voice was tellingly soft in a way that had become more and more common the last few weeks; ever since Andrew had started putting on his shoes and throwing Kevin his, leading them out the dorm but leaving Neil behind. _

_Small pockets of moments that were getting bigger and more frequent, where Andrew was not only allowing but actively cultivating their own space, much like his rooftop visits with Neil. _

_Andrew shrugged, stubbing the cherry of the cigarette out on the bottom of his shoe. The movement caused him to slip a little where he lay on the hood of the Maserati and Kevin resisted the urge to reach over and tuck him more safely into his side. _

_“Could have.” Andrew mused as he corrected himself, laying his head all the way back. His eyelashes fluttered lightly as his eyes skimmed over the sky and Kevin couldn’t help but track the small motion. _

_He was always stunned every time it happened, how when you looked closely at Andrew you could see a thousand little shifts that made him look so very soft. The fan of his eyelashes, the almost unseeable curve on the corner of his lips. The way he had a few curls just behind his left ear and the little mole on the dip of his collarbone. How he’d fix the collar of his jacket a hundred times a day and the way he’d smooth the leather with a gentle palm. _

_“Staring.” Andrew accused and those eyes turned to track Kevin instead of the stars. _

_Kevin turned to lift himself on to his side, cradling his head in his palm. _

_“Neil’s allowed.” _

_“Did he tell you that?” Andrew scoffed. “Unreliable.” _

_“You tell.” Kevin let a smile curve his mouth when Andrew frowned so minutely between his brows. _

_“You don’t tell him to stop.” He paused and let his eyes trace over the way the moon was making Andrews hair shine. _

_“You don’t tell me to stop.”_

_“Shut up.” Andrew snapped but there was little heat in it that Kevin let it glance off him like water. _

_“We like looking at you._ I_ like looking at you.” _

_“I don’t. Your face is nauseating.” Andrew's sharp words were softened with the hand he reached up and the thumb he traced over the tattoo on Kevins cheek. It always made him shudder to have the soft pad of Andrews skin there, a warm connection between him and the moment he allowed himself to think Kevin could be as brave as he hoped. _

_“Andrew.” Kevin sighed, almost letting his eyes flutter closed but not willing to give up the sight of the other man laid back so openly in front of him. Having Kevin leaning over him was a hard fought for gift that Kevin would never take for granted. Words were words and while everything Andrew gave them was precious, it was this, this level of trust with letting Kevin past his boundaries that always left him feeling the most stunned. _

_“Staring.” Andrew said again but it was quieter, feathered around the edges and his hand shifted until his palm slotted around the back of Kevin’s neck. His fingers played with the fine hair there before he was tugging and Kevin kept his arm locked tight so as not to fall into the other man the way his body instinctively craved. _

_There was a tut, an exhale of frustrated air and then Andrew was leaning up to meet him halfway, a yes that was offered into the skin of Kevin's bottom lip before they met and then everything was soft, soft, soft. _

…

“_You just missed Andrew._” 

_I always miss Andrew,_ Kevin thought but didn’t say. He knew that wasn’t what Neil meant so he simply hummed, letting his fingertips barely touch the glass bottles in the store as he walked back and forth along the aisle. He must look mad but there wasn’t enough left in him in that moment to care. 

“Did he drive?” He asked instead.

“_No, Betsy is dropping him off. He didn’t want to leave the Maserati in a parking complex._”

“He didn’t want to leave you without a car.” Kevin argued lightly. “You know you’re going to need to buy your own one soon. Andrew can’t leave his when he graduates.”

There was a long sigh and Kevin stalled in his steps a moment guiltily. Who was he to remind Neil of his impending isolation and the preparations he needed to take when he himself was failing?

“I didn’t me-”

“_I know._” Neil huffed before sighing again and Kevin could hear the faint click of a lighter being ignited. It amazed him sometimes, how Neil could stand the sight and smell of a flame. Maybe the comfort he gleaned from a lit cigarette out weighed the negative but Kevin still thought it made him brave, made him strong. Neil faced his traumas and forced himself to rewrite them instead of replaying them. 

“_You can help me choose when you can come down next. You know Andrew will just go for whatever goes the fastest._” 

He said it so casually, like it had already been decided that Kevin would be with them soon. There were games and training, press duties and interviews, miles and miles and endless logistics to fight through but when Neil said it; it sounded like the easiest thing in the world.

“Thank you.” It slipped out of his dry throat and for the first time since he’d approached the small display of vodka bottles he turned his back on it. 

Neil's voice was all bewilderment. 

“_You’re welcome? I didn’t think you’d be that excited to go car shopping_.”

“I’m not,” He admitted. “It’s just…” 

It was just nice to know he was included in plans. Plans that were days away or weeks or months. Plans that weren’t really plans but just ideas, possibilities. To know that he was thought about in the long term and not forgotten, expendable. It was always so easy to forget.

“_Kev?_” 

Thank you for letting me help. Thank you for giving me a purpose. Thank you for needing something no matter how small or trivial. 

“Sorry, it’s been a long day.” 

There was a silent pause and even through the phone Kevin could almost feel Neil appraising him, studying him for clues and answers. 

“_Are you nearly home?_”

Kevin didn’t have a home here.

“Yeah,” He forced himself to clear his throat, turning back to the shelf and grabbing the first bottle he could by the neck. “Just buying dinner.” 

“_Better hurry home. You have an early flight_.” Neil advised and Kevin could hear the door to the roof closing and the tap, tap, tap of Neils sneakers on the steps down. 

“_Are you meeting Andrew before or after your game?_” 

That made Kevin pause as he approached the register.

“What?”

“_Tomorrow. Andrew’s meeting will be over by one and match start isn’t until five, is it? Though it depends how quick you get through baggage at the airport.” _

If it was possible Kevin’s mouth went even more dry. 

“We didn’t make any plans.”

Neil’s answering silence was as loud as a packed stadium. 

“_When did you and Andrew talk last?_” Neil asked, words oddly careful. 

“Two nights ago.” Kevin said, feeling ashamed.

“_Yeah but that was all of us. I meant just the two of you. About his trip down to you? He told me it was taken care of._” 

The feeling that speared through Kevins chest then was almost enough to make him lose the grip on his bottle. Andrew had told Neil he’d handled their plans but...but he’d never spoken to Kevin. Had he lied to Neil? Pretended he intended to meet up and then never followed through?

“He’s meeting with a recruiter not taking a vacation.” Kevin offered weakly when he could find words, wishing for a way to end the phone call. 

“_Kevin—_” 

“I really need to get home. I’ll call you after the game tomorrow, okay?” He didn’t wait for an answer, hanging up and hiding the phone away from himself as if Neil might spring from the device itself to berate him. 

The wave of shame over still hopelessly hoping made him feel needy and desperate, the sensation clawing in his throat. They didn’t keep secrets, not anymore. Kevin was the liar now but finding out that Andrew had only pretended to want to see him… 

Kevin willed his breath back down, screwed his eyes shut and counted in French, something he’d learnt from Neil. He had a game to play tomorrow and tonight; well he had enough time to get through before his flight that he could turn back around and pick up another bottle. 

…

“I’ve been told not to ask what happened.”

Kevin felt a headache creep up across his forehead and refused to look away from the player stats he was reading through. Their flight wasn’t a long one but long enough for him to give one last analysis to the people he would be up against that night. 

“I _really_ want to ask what happened.” Aisling tried again, leaning her shoulder over to nudge him. 

“Can I ask what happened?”

Kevin sighed long and low, closing the folder with a snap. 

“Would you even listen to me if i said no?” He bit out, irritated and frustrated. His nerves were on edge and the sickly sensation of a hangover was still clinging to the edges of him. 

Aisling shifted in her seat until she was facing him as much as possible in the cramped space, reaching out a hand and laying it on his arm gently. 

“I’m always here to listen.” 

The scoff Kevin made was ugly. “Only if it’s what you want to hear. If you’ve been told not to ask then why are you?”

“I care about you Kevin.” 

“I didn’t ask you to.” He snapped, pulling his arm away sharply. “You always have to stick your nose in.” 

Her eyes should have darkened with anger but they filled with something sadder instead, her whole demeanor seeming to sink and deflate. 

“I worry for you,” She said softly. “You look like you’ve barely slept since whatever happened that night. Donovan won’t tell me and--”

“There’s nothing to tell and I don’t need you worrying over me. I’m _fine _Aisling.” 

Aisling’s eyes held his for a moment before they looked down deliberately. He followed her gaze, flinching when he saw but didn’t feel the nails he had embedded with one hand into the other. He released them quickly, tucking them between his knees and feeling the cruel urge to blame her. 

“You do that a lot.” Her gaze flicked back up to him. “If you would just talk to me. I want to help.” 

Kevin was beyond help. Kevin needed so much help that there wasn’t anyone left who deserved to carry the weight of trying to pull him back up from the pit that he was falling into; had fallen in to. He couldn’t ask Andrew to carry the load of Kevin's issues over his shoulders again, couldn’t force Neil to again dig through so much shared trauma just so Kevin could make sense of his. He couldn’t pull Aisling into his world of so much suffocating black. 

“If you want to talk you can make it useful and go over these stats with me.” He offered the folder out to her and after a second she took it from him carefully.

“You’ve already memorised these. We have time.” 

“And if you spent more of it concentrating on the game and not on me then we might actually stand a chance of winning. Or do you like losing to them every year?”

Aisling’s next inhale and exhale of breath was shaky and wet; and Kevin hated himself for the words he didn’t know how to say and the poisonous ones he replaced them with instead. 

“I don’t believe you’re as much of an asshole as you pretend to be but you sure do make it hard.” She accused him. “I’ll leave you alone Kevin, but just remember that one day people aren’t going to keep trying if you keep pushing them away.” 

He wanted to tell her that trying to help him was only going to get her hurt. He wanted to tell her that he ruined everything he tried to keep and grow and love. He wanted everything to stop. 

He was so _tired_. Bone tired. So tired he couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything except push himself into the only thing that was easy until the next wash of a drink forced him into a sleep he never really felt. He was tired of trying to make sense of the words people said to him and the looks he was thrown. Exy was the only thing that he could make form into any sense. 

He turned back to a new set of pages and refused to let his mouth open again. 

...

There were eyes on him. 

He could feel them crawling up the length of his spine and settling around the back of his neck, tightening, tightening, tightening until they were a noose. He didn’t know who held the other end but he could guess. Guessing made him feel sick to his stomach. 

Every step he took out towards the entrance of the team tunnel felt like walking towards his own execution. How was this fair? He was here doing what he was meant to be doing, about to play the game he was paid to play, _indebted _to play. 

_I don’t want to be here._

It was a thought rattling enough to stutter his steps as he joined the line to await their turn to be called into the court. Aisling stumbled into his back as his feet ground him in place and her sudden exhalation of surprise made Donovan turn from the front. When Kevin looked up to meet his eyes for the first time in days he could see all the questions his Captain wanted to ask. All the questions Kevin couldn’t answer. 

They’re here, he wanted to say. They are watching me. I can’t mess up. I can’t fail. Help me not fail, he wanted to say. _Help me. _

“Are you ready?” Donovan asked and there was nothing in his voice but the steely resolve of his place as team captain. 

Kevin watched as his eyes shifted until all his worry was buried, felt Aisling straighten herself at her back and he wanted to scream. 

Ask me, he wanted to yell, ask me just once more what’s wrong and I’ll tell you. Ask me to let you help and I will; but Aisling was right. Nobody was going to keep trying for him anymore. 

He swallowed hard, regripped his racquet and clenched his jaw tight. 

“I’m ready.” 

....

The sweat clinging to his skin was rapidly cooling but the frantic beat of his heart wouldn’t slow. Tendrils of panic were wrapped tight around his lungs, taking root in his ribs and growing weeds up the back of his throat until he was surely going to choke on them. 

They had won. They had won and even the sheer relief of that did nothing to calm the tremors or quieten the voice in the back of his head that was screaming that he wasn’t safe. Had he done enough? Had he proved himself worthy? He had scored more than Aisling but there had been stumbles, missed chances, poor passes. 

Nothing he did was ever going to be enough. 

He was never going to be enough. 

He couldn't breathe. 

The straps of his helmet slipped through his fingers as he tugged on them, pushing his way through his team and the deafening cry of their victory. He could hear it but he couldn’t connect to it. He couldn’t _breathe_. 

Someone thumped him on the shoulder and he shook himself free with a bile rising in his throat. His elbow pushed into another players side and maybe that was his team or the other but the person snapped something rude at him that he couldn’t listen to all the same. 

He needed to leave. He needed to leave before they found him. He couldn’t talk to them, couldn’t see them if they were even here to start with. He wasn’t brave enough to face Ichirou the way Neil had. 

If he could only find a breath. 

_Please, please_, he begged of no one, anyone. 

“Wait, Kevin!” Aisling’s voice called out and she shouldn’t be following, shouldn’t care after how he treated her over and over. The door to their locker room banged against the wall as he nearly fell his way through and the sudden quiet was like buzzing flies in his ears. 

“Where are you going?” Aisling followed him on his path through the hall and into the mens changing room. “Come celebrate with the team.”

“The hotel.” He said with a catch in his voice as he shoved his gear into his bag, not even stopping to fully change out of his armor first.

“But the bus--” Aisling tried to argue and he slammed his locker door closed hard enough that she stepped back, eyes wide. Afraid. 

“I’ll get a taxi.” He lied because he could feel it in his bones that the second he made open air the only option would be to run. Maybe he wouldn’t even make it out of the parking lot. Maybe they were waiting for him, his fate already decided despite their win. Had he already been designated as expendable? Had the deal Neil had made been washed away and his life forfeit? 

“Kevin_ talk_ to me. What’s going on?”

She tried and failed to put herself between him and the door and while he wasn’t Neil, he was still one of the fastest strikers playing. 

”Please stop!” She called after him but Kevin no longer knew how. 

…

_“I’m going to stop.” Kevin slurred even as he bought the mouth of the bottle back to his lips. “I promise. After this.” _

_Andrew made a scoffing noise in the back of his throat before he reached over and snatched the bottle from Kevin’s weak grip. He slammed it down on the dorm room floor they were sprawled on so hard liquid splashed out the top._

_“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” _

_“I will.” Kevin tried to roll himself to the side to face the man but gave up halfway, sliding till he was completely horizontal. His new position put Neil in his line of sight and he grinned sloppily up at the man. _

_“Neil. Neil, Neil. I promise.” _

_Neil sighed and rubbed a hand over his eyes before he offered Kevin a forced smile._

_“I know.”_

_Kevin pouted. “You don’t believe me.” _

_Neil’s answering silence was all the confirmation needed and he frowned, reaching out a hand and wrapping it around Neil’s ankle._

_“I will.” He repeated. “You’ll see and then you’ll, then Andrew will…” He stumbled over his words and giggled despite nothing being funny._

_“You’ll like me more if I do.”_

_“Kevin.” Neil sighed but his voice turned a fraction softer. “We like you already.”_

_“Speak for yourself.” Andrew refuted, taking a swing of his own from the pilfered bottle. _

_“No,” Kevin shook his head against the carpet rapidly. “No, if I stop you’ll _like_ like me.”_

_“Kev—“ _

_“No.” Kevin whined over Neil. “If I stop, if I’m, if I do,” He thumped his feet against the floor twice as his words refused to come out right. _

_“Better. If I’m better. You’ll like me more.”_

_“Stop it.” Andrew said and it was the deadly calm of his voice that made Kevin look round at him, meeting the hardness of his eyes with only the liquid courage in his stomach steadying him._

_“I’m broken.” He said quietly, sadly. “But maybe you’ll like me if I try really hard not to be.” _

_“You’re not broken.” Neil argued. _

_Kevin couldn’t help himself or the way his hand reached up to his cheek, fingering the chess piece and what it covered._

_“But Riko—“_

_“If you finish that sentence,” Andrew growled, “I’ll break you myself.” _

_“I’d let you.” Kevin said and even though it was hushed, even though he hadn’t known the words would come out until they did they exploded into the room like a grenade. Neil flinched away like Kevin had struck him and Andrew; Andrew looked like he was imagining every way he could make that statement a reality._

_Kevin watched everything play out across his face with fascination. He couldn’t tell himself what he had even meant but the words didn’t feel like a lie. He’d let Andrew break him into a million pieces if it meant he got to stay with them. _

_He might have expected Andrew to hit him, to wrap his fingers once more around Kevins throat and squeeze. He might be told to shut up again or told to take it back. Andrew might even just get up silently and leave as he was known to do when he found Kevin irritating beyond measure. _

_When he only leaned forward slowly, face dark like thunderclouds but his movements measured, Kevin's breath couldn’t help but hitch. When Andrew’s fingers gripped his chin not in their usual bruising way but with soft pressure as he used them to tilt Kevin’s head against the floor until they were eye to eye, his skin broke out in goosebumps. _

_“I am not going to hurt you.” Andrew said and in all the time Kevin had known him, he had never heard him sound the way he did in that moment. Open, cracked, a raw part of himself exposed even as his tone was steely with seriousness. _

_He wanted to believe Andrew. In the fogged and hazed state of his mind the words were anchors and life rafts. They were more than he deserved and yet they were everything he wanted, to not be hurt again by someone he loved. _

_“Promise?” He mouthed the words even as the sound of them got lodged in the back of his throat, choked by a sudden swell of desperation. _

_Andrew’s fingers slipped away from him and the loss of pressure of skin made him already yearn for the alcohol he had not moments before sworn off. The sight of Andrew standing and his retreating back as he stormed from the room had him reaching for it even as Neil cursed beside him, grabbing his scarred hand and holding tight to stop him. _

…

For a second Kevin wasn’t sure if the pounding was coming from the inside of his skull. The bottle of vodka in his hand was only half full now and he could barely remember drinking it. He took another long pull to be safe, the burn in his throat a better feeling than the burn behind his eyes. The pounding just got louder and it only then registered as his door. There was little he’d rather do less right now then deal with one of his team mates but it was clear that whoever it was wasn’t going to be ignored. 

The path to the door wobbled as he walked but he managed to keep straight as he pulled it open, lips curled back to snarl at the intruder before falling abruptly as Andrew filled in his doorway.

Andrews eyes were hard as they stared at him before sliding down and the fleeting warmth Kevin felt at the appraisal evaporated as Andrews eyes fixed on the bottle still in his hand. 

Andrew was shoving a palm into his chest before he could even think to hide the alcohol from him, pushing until Kevin had no choice but to stumble further back into the room as the door was slammed shut. 

“The fuck Day?” Andrew snarled, body coiled tight. “Give it to me.” 

It was not a request but Kevin clutched the bottle closer to himself all the same, body locking still in place as he shook his head slowly. 

“No.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is the one I am the most afraid to upload. It has the first scene I ever wrote for this fic. It's the origin of the whole idea. It's the only part that's never really changed since it was first written/planned and I don't know if that is a good thing or not. I hope it doesn't disappoint because I am oddly attached to it. 
> 
> Thank you everyone who has left me such amazing comments the last week! And everyone who's been talking about my fic on tumblr! it seriously means so much and makes me so happy every time i see it. You guys keep me going, especially with how crazy things are in the world right now. Sincerely, THANK YOU! 
> 
> Everyone say thank you to Essence29 because she has been such a reliable and brilliant support for me writing this and I would undoubtedly be so much further behind with this if it wasn't for her!

“The fuck Day?” Andrew snarled, body coiled tight. “Give it to me.” 

It was not a request but Kevin clutched the bottle closer to himself all the same, body locking still in place as he shook his head slowly. 

“No.”

There was no other word for the sound Andrew made except a growl, low and full of the type of warning that had sent so many others running in the opposite direction. 

“Give it to me. _Right now._” 

When Kevin didn’t so much as blink Andrew reached out and grabbed the bottom of the bottle, tugging when Kevin’s grip didn't loosen, fingers tight on the neck. His whole body was practically vibrating and his eyes were more black than amber.

“It was not a suggestion.” He said dangerously. “Let go. _Now._” 

The bottle finally slid from Kevin’s hand and Andrew looked like he wanted nothing more than to throw the bottle far from the pair of them. He seemed to settle for slamming it down on the nearest table, moving his body in front of it when Kevin’s eyes followed its path hungrily. 

“What are you doing with alcohol Kevin?” Andrew demanded, folding his arms across his chest tightly. He was much smaller than Kevin but he had always been so much more than Kevin could ever be. A bigger presence, a bigger self, a better grasp on who he was and what he’d expect from the people around him. 

Kevin swallowed hard, looking anywhere but the dangerous ground that was Andrew’s eyes. His heart pounded in his chest and without the vodka in his reach he suddenly felt adrift, as if he’d been thrown overboard without a life jacket. 

Andrew was here. Why was Andrew here? He’d wanted nothing more all these days and weeks and months and as if he had willed him into being Andrew’s presence was filling every empty space around him. 

The immense force of Andrew’s disapproval was inescapable and Kevin wanted to be able to shrink away from it and hide. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. 

“Why are you here?” He somehow managed to croak. 

Andrew didn’t back down and only moved his arm to point a finger at his own chest. 

“I asked first.” 

Kevin couldn’t answer that question in any way that wouldn’t anger Andrew further. There was no safe way to tell him he had slipped, no words that could explain what he had allowed to happen that would make it okay. He couldn’t lie to Andrew either. It would be so easy to try but he knew Andrew, knew that there wasn’t a sentence he could string together that Andrew would believe if Kevin didn’t believe it himself. He cringed and dropped his eyes quickly, hiding the green that would scream truths into the room for him. 

“You weren’t drinking last time we saw you,” Andrew started and then paused when Kevin’s eyes flicked back up to him without his control. He bristled, arms dropping just so his hands could clench and release. 

“Were you drinking then? Do_ not_ lie to me.”

Kevin forced his throat to work, any of the calming numb from his half a bottle fleeing. 

“Not while you were there,” He tried to reason but his words fell limp at Andrew's iron look.

“Yes.” He admitted weakly. 

_He’s going to leave me._

The thought raged its way through his mind so fiercely it burned. He’d thought it for months, he’d imagined a hundred different ways before falling asleep but he wasn't prepared for the moment, not even close. He could see it so clearly, the sight of Andrew’s back as he would turn and walk away. The snick of the door closing between them. He’d tell Neil and he didn’t know if he’d get to see the look of disappointment and disgust on Neil’s face or if he'd just cut Kevin off immediately. 

He’d be alone, truly alone, while they move on without him miles away and it’d be easier for them. No more worrying about him. No more drain on their time together. He wouldn’t be a dead weight tying them down to a past Kevin couldn’t get over and a future he still couldn’t find the courage to face without a crutch. Kevin was a leech on their relationship and he ached with it, but the thought of losing them…

“Please don’t leave me.” The words tore out of him in a frantic whisper before he could stop them and he was stumbling back, trembling and shaking apart, taking one frantic step after another until his back hit the nearest wall. 

Andrew froze so completely where he stood he may as well have been turned to stone by Kevin’s foolish words. 

The first sob felt like shards in Kevin’s throat as it stuck and he wanted to apologise immediately, wanted to snatch the _please_ back from the air as if he could stop Andrew from hearing it. He was stupid, so stupid. He knew, of course, he knew what words were to Andrew and he’d taken maybe the worst simply because he couldn’t do better. He was supposed to _be_ better_._

“Kevin,” Andrew said and then stopped, as if for the first time he had no idea what to say. Andrew always knew what to say, always had some words to offer in their trio whether to steady or rally them. 

Kevin’s hands trembled when he brought them shakily up to his mouth, pressing the fingertips into the flesh like he could trap any more words behind the skin. 

“I’m sorry.” He trembled out through them all the same. “I didn’t mean to say--”

“Kevin,” Andrew said again and the anger had leached from his voice and been replaced with suspicion. 

Kevin knew Andrew remembered everything whether he wanted to or not. Knew the look crossing his face was the one he wore when he was working something out, flipping through the immense amount of information in the back of his mind to analyse and compare. What was he remembering? 

Every phone call where Kevin couldn’t be anything but vague about what he had been doing outside of practice. Every instance where Kevin had slipped and let something weak and ugly out, some desperate cry for help or inability to control his anger. Was he remembering the morning in the kitchen, coffee and Kevin on his tongue but a weight in the air, an untold secret? 

“You’re not supposed to be here.” Kevin tried vainly to distract.

Andrew tilted his head and his look became more curious and calculating. He was holding himself completely still and Kevin didn’t know if that was worse than if he had tried to approach. 

“You didn’t think I’d come find you after my meeting?” He less asked than stated. 

“You never said.” He accused shakily.

There was a frustrated tension to Andrew's shoulders as he adjusted his stance, rocking from one foot to the other. 

“You knew I was going to be in town. I thought it was implied.” 

Kevin couldn’t help himself. “Neil said you told him you had already spoken to me but you hadn’t and I thought…” 

“You thought?” Andrew pushed and Kevin knew his patience must be wearing thin. He hated roundabout conversations. 

“Neil’s not here.” Kevin blurted words he hadn’t even consciously said to himself. How many creeping vines of insecurity had wound themselves into his brain? Every time he thought he couldn’t imagine anything worse, couldn’t possibly find another reason to support how unwanted and incapable he was, there was another thought there to push its way out of him. 

That seemed to surprise Andrew, his eyebrows rising slightly. 

“You didn’t bring Neil with you.” Kevin bullied on with a mouth that couldn’t seem to stop. It had all seemed so hard before. It was still hard yet words he had thought he had no courage to say bubbled out of him anyway. 

It was less a conversation than confession. 

“If it couldn’t be all three of us together then why--” 

“Are you only interested when Neil is with us?” Andrew cut over him and his voice had dropped carefully neutral. 

“Of course not.” Kevin breathed out in a rush. How could that be true? When every second of every day Kevin spent wanting. Every breath that rattled through his chest breathed Neil and every pound of his heartbeat Andrew against his ribs. 

Andrew's gaze traced over his face and Kevin had the uncomfortable feeling of knowing he was seen, really seen, for what could well be the first time in months. They could never hide anything from Andrew for long, not when he really wanted to study them. He was too practised at peeling their layers and seeing through their bullshit. Anger flooded over the previous calm.

“You think I’m only interested when it’s all of us.” 

It wasn’t a question. Kevin doubted he could have answered even if it had been. It wasn’t a conclusion he had ever been able to put into words but Andrew could surely see the moment the truth of it started to seep into Kevin’s blood and spread. 

“The sheer levels to your stupidity,” Andrew snapped and Kevin flinched. 

He hadn’t shrunk back from Andrew in so long, hadn’t been afraid of the smaller man approaching him in what felt like a lifetime. He wasn't afraid now, but Andrew reacted before Kevin could stifle his movements, taking two large steps back and scowling, hands clenched into fists at his sides. 

Andrew's chest rose and fell with a hard breath.

“You are wrong.”

Kevin swallowed hard, grabbing his hands together tight into his stomach. 

“It’s okay if you like Neil better.” He offered. “I’m okay with being second.”

_I’m used to being second. _

The words fell like stones between them, the weight shaking the foundation between them viciously. Andrew looked how he never had before, like Kevin had shredded and torn something from his chest with his fingernails. The expression didn’t last long before it was clamped down on but it was enough to make Kevin feel like something dirty. Unworthy. 

“Why didn’t you call me?” Andrew demanded. 

“I do call you,” Kevin argued habitually, ever difficult. 

“Kevin,” Andrew warned and Kevin swallowed hard. 

“I didn’t know how anymore.” He admitted meekly, letting his eyes drift and focus on the small curls of Andrew's hair instead of his endless eyes. 

“Talking together, all of us, it was easier--”

“To hide the truth.” 

The accusation stung even if it was true. 

“I never told you not to call.” Andrew carried on. “We made that clear before we parted. Neil calls me all the damn time and we live together still.” 

“But you like talking to him.” Kevin whispered. 

An emotion flickered across Andrew’s features that was too quick to read and Kevin rushed on before Andrew could respond, mouth an appliance he had lost the remote for. 

”I know it got better, I know it did. I know you tried but I know I’m so much work, okay. I know I’m not fun and I don’t understand like Neil and...” Kevin rambled and Andrew stepped forward, eyes intense on him. 

“You are not going to stand there and give us permission to exclude you.” He hesitated for a second, a gesture Kevin rarely saw him make. “For me to exclude you. “

Kevin stood with his mouth opening and closing on so many stupid words but he didn’t get the chance to say any of them. 

“Yes or no?” 

Kevin’s gaze snapped centre despite himself, hardwired for those words. 

“Yes.” He breathed, automatic because how could he say no? He didn’t know where this was going, he didn’t know where the end of this night might leave them, but if Andrew was going to cut him loose he wanted to steal as many threads to wrap around himself as possible. He thought maybe that was pathetic, knew it was selfish. 

Andrew was in his space in an instant and while Kevin expected something bruising when Andrew's hands rose to his face, his palms came to rest on his cheeks with a pressure so light it stole Kevin’s breath. 

“I don’t dislike talking to you Kevin.” He said slowly, then with more urgency. “Tell me what is happening.” He brushed one finger across the tattoo on Kevin’s cheekbone in a motion as familiar as breathing. “Tell me what you need.” 

Tears threatened to blur Kevin’s vision as much as he tried to force them down. 

“You.” He choked. It was all he had wanted since the moment the pair had walked out of his apartment that first day, the only thought that never left the back of his mind and niggled at him until he felt raw and broken under his skin. 

“I’m here.”

Kevin shook his head, the movement causing Andrews fingers to tighten ever so slightly on his cheeks.

“Except when you’re not.” His voice cracked down the middle and burned in his throat. ”You’re gone so much and I’m…” 

“You’re what?” Andrew pressed. 

I’m selfish. I’m needy. I’m incapable of being alone and being a person. I’m a ship without an anchor and a balloon without a tether. I’m everything Riko thought I was and worse. I’m a coward. 

When Kevin spoke his voice was barely more than air past his teeth. 

“I’m always going to be alone now that he’s dead.” 

Andrew flinched like he had been hit and all Kevin wanted to do was curl into himself. He was making things worse, he always made things worse. Always wanted more than he had and should be grateful for. 

“I’m sorry.” He choked, giving in to his tears and wrapping his arms around his stomach like he could hold in all the awful that he was.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to. I’m _sorry_.”

Andrew made a deep noise in his throat and Kevin hugged himself tighter. He always said the wrong thing. 

“I’ll do better.” He tried. “I’ll _be _better. I can be better, I can, I can-,” 

“Kevin.” Andrew snapped with a barely-there tremble, then again louder when he was ignored. “Kevin, look at me. _Look at me_. Stop it. ” 

Hands tugged on Kevin’s wrists and he never noticed he was crushing his nails into the old scars across his hand again until Andrew was pulling him free. Could he see all the times he had succumbed to the act like a child trying to self soothe? 

“Stop,” Andrew ordered. 

Kevin hiccoughed around air that he was only now realising he couldn’t get in. Panic attack, his brain supplied and it was just another thing he was doing wrong. 

“Breathe Kevin.”

“I can’t.” He choked and for everything that he had done, was doing, he didn’t think he deserved to either. 

“Stop,” Andrew said and the hands on his wrists slid round to his hands, cradling them with a tenderness it had taken Andrew months to learn, months to let himself be okay with. His thumbs swiped over Kevin’s skin as carefully as touching glass, like Kevin was fragile. 

Wasn’t he though? Fragile Kevin. Weak Kevin. Needy Kevin. Incapable Kevin. How long was Andrew going to have to hold him up for? Their deal, the foundation of the start of their partnership was over. Andrew had given Kevin everything, he and Neil both, yet Kevin still kept on taking. 

Why wasn’t Andrew exhausted by him? Why did he continue to give when Kevin still had so little to give him in return? When all he did was take like so many people had done to Andrew his whole life. 

His skin crawled and cold spread up his spine even as Andrew's hands were warm. He was no better than the people that had abused Andrew and the thought made his throat tighten even more, his breath skipping and sputtering around the horrible realisation. 

“Breathe.” Andrew instructed him, “Breathe with me.” 

“No.” Kevin whispered, recoiling in Andrew’s hold and Andrew jumped back like it had been screamed, shutters coming down behind his eyes instantly. 

“I can’t.” He wheezed. “I can’t, I’m sorry.” His knees gave way on him with no warning, between one barely there inhale and the next he had slid down the wall. His arms went around his legs and he pressed his face into his knees. The silence in the room was a presence all of its own only broken by his own wet and cracked attempts at air. 

_I’m ruining everything. _

He could hear Andrew move after what felt like hours gasping but couldn't focus through the roaring between his ears, couldn't convince his fingers to do anything but curl until they bit into his skin.

“_Kevin, listen to me. Try to take a breath for me.”_

It took so many moments for Kevin to be able to focus on the voice, it took even longer until his brain could register that it wasn’t the sound of Andrew talking to him. 

“Neil.” His voice was only a rasp of sound. He hoped, he hoped so hard it hurt. 

“_Yeah Kev, I’m here._”

His voice was soft and clear but it was still so very far away. Kevin could feel every inch of distance between them as if string was attached to his heart, ever trying to pull him in the direction of home. When he could manage to move even the smallest amount he raised his head to see a phone laying by his feet. 

“No, you’re not.” 

Neil made a pained noise over the phone and Kevin sobbed, his shaking body curling tighter into itself again. The edges of his vision were fuzzy and his lungs were screaming for air but he only felt like screaming for something that hurt so much deeper. 

“_I want to be, I promise you,_” Neil told him. “_I need you to breathe Kevin. Can you do that for me?_”

Kevin made a strangled sound because he didn't think he could, didn’t think he’d ever remembered how to just inhale and exhale. How did people breathe? How did people let oxygen in so freely? 

“_You can do it, I know you can,_” Neil said soothingly down the line. “_You’ve done it before, you can do it now. Just breathe okay? In, hold and out._” 

“I don’t know how.” 

_“You do,” _Neil assured him._ “Just breathe in, remember? Just stop. Breathe in. Breathe out.” _

They’d done this so many times before. Sometimes for Kevin. Sometimes for Neil. Sometimes, when he let them, for Andrew. It never felt any easier. It never felt like he’d learnt from the time before. Each instance always felt like it would be the last, like his body would never learn to do its most basic task again and he would die like that, choking and afraid. 

It never was the last time though. There was always another, always more air to be had to be lost again when he couldn’t keep himself in control. It wasn’t a comforting thought but he latched on to it anyway. 

“Breathe.” He copied Neil and he tried. 

_“Breathe.” _Neil echoed and he sounded relieved. _“Breathe in for me.”_

It burned as air rushed past his lips and down his throat but he did. 

_“Hold for just a few seconds, okay?”_

He did. 

_“Now breathe out slowly.”_

He did. 

_“That’s good Kev. Can you do it again for me?” _

He did. He repeated and repeated until a rhythm came. He repeated until the tight hold he had on every muscle of his body released and he felt like he might fall all the way to the ground and keep going. 

_“Kevin, do you need Andrew to leave?” _

Kevin raised his head only the smallest amount but Andrew’s eyes were there waiting for him, always waiting with a deep amber that held with so much strength. He could feel the no vibrating in the air between them and it felt like a wall that Kevin didn’t know how to climb over.

He didn’t know how to take it back, didn’t know if he deserved it. He promised himself, all those months ago that he would never do this to Andrew. He’d never push or take or force himself past Andrew's boundaries, would never let Andrew feel like he had forced himself past Kevin’s. He’d promised to never ask for more than he was allowed and never deny Andrew anything he needed to feel safe with them. 

Did Andrew feel safe now? How could he, when Kevin had thrown the sharpest thing he could at his chest, thrown the denial of his consent at Andrew’s feet like it wouldn’t rise up and pierce him. 

“I don’t.” He managed through a rough throat. 

“_Can you go to him?_” Neil asked carefully over the line and Kevin’s shoulders shuddered. He wanted to be close to Andrew. He didn’t before but he wanted now and he didn’t think that was fair. 

“I can’t.” He croaked, eyes pleading with Andrew to understand, though understand what he didn’t know. It was for the best, like always, that Andrew never needed much to understand what they couldn’t say. He never needed them to speak to read what they were saying, never needed more than their open and willing eyes to understand them. 

“You can’t or you don’t think you should?” Andrew asked him.

“Shouldn’t,” Kevin whispered. “Drew.”

Andrew made a noise almost close to soothing, like he was shushing a small child. It wasn’t an unkind sound and it halted Kevin’s speech. Andrew shifted, leaning up from the crouch on the ground Kevin hadn’t seen him get into enough to shuffle back until he was pressed against the wall. He let his legs stretch out in front of him, posture deliberately relaxed. He eyed Kevin for a long careful moment before he lifted one hand between them, palm raised up and inviting. 

“You’re allowed to want even if you didn’t before.” Andrew told him in a steady voice. “Kevin, do you want to come here?” 

“Yes.” Kevin’s mouth trembled. “Can I?”

Andrew let out a breath that sounded as shaky as Kevin felt, like it had been trapped in his chest all this time and he had only now allowed it to flutter its way out.

“Yes.” 

He wanted to leap into Andrew’s arms. He wanted to close the distance between them more than he’d ever wanted anything and he wanted to bury himself into the other man. He wanted to drown in the feeling of Andrew's arms around him and his chest rising and falling. He wanted, he wanted, but when he moved it was a slow crawl, hesitant. Afraid. If he moved and Andrew changed his mind, if he took too fast and was denied…he didn’t think he could bear it. 

“It’s alright.” Andrew told him as if he could see every word that rattled through Kevin. He probably could. “It’s yes.” 

Reaching Andrew was like finding water after crawling through the desert. 

He was so much bigger than Andrew but when he followed Andrew’s hand and let himself be pulled into the other man's lap he felt completely surrounded. He pressed his forehead to the skin of Andrew's neck and the warmth he found there was like the first rays of sun after a long winter. He sunk into the embrace with a near-silent sob and curled his fingers into the jacket Andrew had never had the time to take off. The smell of cigarette smoke filled his nose and it was at once so ingrained as Andrew and so recognisable as Neil that it made his head spin. 

He felt Andrew shift beneath him and then fingers were in his hair, carding tentatively at first and then with more purpose when Kevin sighed into it. Nails scratched lightly over his scalp and then soothed over the strands in small swirls. 

Everything quietened. Everything stopped. Nothing was better but all of an instant and in that brilliant moment, it no longer mattered; because for that moment at least, he still had a home. 

The sheer relief of it made him feel boneless, made every cell in his body let go as he handed over himself to a care he didn’t deserve but wanted all the same. Andrew’s care. For several long minutes the only sound was Andrew’s even breathing and the steady beat of his heart. 

The sound of him speaking again startled Kevin but he refused to open his eyes from where they had drifted closed, refused to let the moment go if it might be the last one he got to have. It didn’t take long to realise that it wasn’t him that Andrew was speaking to. 

“He’s fallen asleep,” Andrew said, sounding all at once exhausted himself.

“_Good,_” Neil replied, still on speaker. “_Andrew, what the fuck is going on?_”

Andrew's hand shifted slightly in his hair, falling down a little more until he was toying with the strands at Kevin’s nape. 

“He had a panic attack.”

“_No shit,_” Neil hissed and then seemed to catch himself, lowering the volume of his voice. “_Why did he have a panic attack? He hasn’t had one in months._”

“He thinks we’re going to leave him.” Andrew's voice had no inflection in that moment and Kevin couldn’t tell what he was thinking; whether he was repulsed by the notion or indifferent to it. 

Neils exclamation was incredulous. “_What?_”

Andrew shushed him sharply. “You heard me the first time.”

There was the sound of rustling and a door banging open. 

“_I’m coming up there._”

“No,” Andrew ordered in a tone he used often when he wanted them to know what he was saying was final. 

“_Andrew--_” Neil started to argue. 

“I need to talk to him myself first,” Andrew said and the words sounded brittle in his mouth. “This is my fault.”

“_This is both of our faults._” Neil sighed and there was the sound of a thump, like maybe Neil had kicked out at something near him. “_What the hell put that idea into his head?_” 

“I haven’t got that far yet.”

There was a pause long enough that Kevin wandered if they’d hung up on each other. Neil's voice almost made him flinch when he exhaled roughly over the line.

“_He’s never been alone before, not properly, not since the Nest._”

“I know.” Kevin couldn’t hear any judgement in Andrew’s voice but he knew it must be there all the same. How exhausting it must be to after all these years to still have Kevin clinging to them. Still unable to be alone, still the Raven with the broken wing. 

“_I thought he would tell us, if he wasn’t okay. He seemed okay._”

“We’re both idiots for believing that.” There was another long pause. “He said no to me.” 

“_Oh Drew._”

“I don’t understand.” Andrew gritted out. It was as close to a beg for help that he was able to get, for Neil to tell him where he had gone wrong. 

“_He’s lonely._”

“Why didn’t he tell us?”

“_He’s always been afraid of seeming dependent. Needy_.”

“He is not,” Andrew growled.

“_I know._” 

“He’s drinking again.” 

“_Andrew!_” Neil exclaimed. “_Fuck, I can’t just stay here. I need to be with him, the both of you._” 

“Not yet.” 

“_Andrew!_”

“Neil.” 

There was a muffled string of curses and another thump.

“_He’d been sober for so long._”

Andrew’s hand tightened ever so slightly against Kevin. 

“Recovery isn’t a straight line.”

Neil snorted and it sounded suspiciously wet. “_Tell me about it.” _

Their words became softer and the heavy pull of Kevin’s started to pull him under for real. He couldn’t help but succumb to the fingers carding through his hair, a solid and soothing reminder of Andrew’s attention. He could hear the sound of his two boyfriends still whispering to each other and for a moment he let himself believe that when he woke up, he wouldn’t be alone again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can i just say an extra big thank you to Exycuter on tumblr because every time you post about my story it brightens my day. You always get so excited and it's the most amazing thing to see. Your posts/tags are always hilarious as well so thank you so so so much for enabling my Kandreil/Kevin Day obsession. You rock!


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can I just from the absolute bottom of my heart thank everyone who keeps commenting such lovely and encouraging things on this fic. Your continuing support and pure kindness means so so much, especially during this shitty time. I still have to work during the lock-down in my country and it frankly, sucks. Every time i'm on my lunch break and see someone excited about getting to read more it makes my day a little less frustrating, every time i get home a night and hear how someone is so invested in Kevin and his story it encourages me to open the next chapter up and get on writing. I never thought I would write as much of this as i have and every single comment, kudos and view makes it worth every minute I spend on it. 
> 
> So thank you, really really thank you! : ) 
> 
> And always the most ridiculously big thanks to Essence29 for not only the amazing editing job she does but also for being someone always ready to discuss every minute detail of Kevin Day with me, who keeps my spirits lifted with her kindness and generosity, and who has frankly fascinating and insightful takes on character relationships. Her advice for this chapter and the following ones are invaluable. She's a good egg and everyone should give her a big shout out for without her this fic surely would never exist! : )

When Kevin woke in the morning it was to the sound of yelling and a ragged cry that cut through the bedroom, ringing between his ears. It took the first few seconds after his body bolted up in bed to realise the noise had come from him. The ghosts of a nightmare clung behind his eyelids and when he placed a hand to his chest he found it heaving. His eyes darted around the room first in search of threats, but then in confusion. He didn’t remember getting into bed. He remembered the match the day before, the cold slithering feeling of anxiety of being watched. He remembered fleeing back to the hotel and opening up a new bottle of vodka. He remembered a knock on his door and—Andrew, he remembered Andrew. 

He groaned long and low into his hands and gripped his hair between his fingers. The memories of the night before flooded back and for a moment he wished he had had a chance to drink more so they’d be lost to him. He remembered the anger on Andrew’s face when he saw the alcohol, he remembered finally spilling his insecurities into the open and he could feel the stuffy aftertaste of tears.

He had broken again, typically, habitually, unsurprisingly; and Andrew had seen it all. 

Everything was ruined now, wasn’t it? There was no way Andrew would ever be able to look at him the same again and Neil; he remembered Andrew phoning Neil. He’d had a panic attack and it’d taken Neils voice to bring him back down. Would that have hurt Andrew? Thinking that he was no longer capable of calming Kevin?

“I can hear you thinking from here.” 

Andrew's voice cut through the rapid spiralling of Kevin’s thoughts and he jumped, head darting up to the doorway. Andrew’s lean against the door looked relaxed but Kevin knew him well enough by now to see the tension held in his shoulders. 

“I’m sorry.” He sounded timid even to his own ears. 

Andrew waved the fingers of one hand dismissively. He never had much desire for apologies even when they were surely deserved. 

“You were shouting.” He said with no inflexion. “Don’t take them.” 

He didn’t ask Kevin who, didn’t ask why. If Kevin wanted to tell him he would listen, but he knew Andrew wouldn’t intrude on what haunted another person at night unless invited. 

There were only flashes of the nightmare still left behind his eyes when he blinked. The crunch of bone, blood on an exy racquet, hands grabbing and taking. Neil and Andrew being pulled away from him and scrambling to run after them, never fast enough. He shuddered, wrapping his arms around his middle and taking a deep breath.

He was still in his clothes from the night before he realized as his fingers gripped onto the fabric of his shirt. Andrew must have led him here while he was mostly asleep. The thought almost warmed him until he turned his head and saw that only the side he had slept on looked touched. There was no indent from Andrew's head, no extra blanket that the other man liked to wrap around himself. 

When he turned back to look at Andrew he was still leaning, still watching him with not a single give to his expression. 

“Did you sleep here?” He asked, already knowing the answer. 

The small shake to Andrew’s head still made his chest throb painfully on a heartbeat. When Andrew flicked his eyes over Kevin’s face and then turned on his heel abruptly to leave it made him feel like a whole fist was being pushed down his throat. 

“Andrew?” He tried to call but it came out no louder than a whisper. 

He could hear the sound of shuffling, the open and close of a drawer, clinking and then the running of a tap. Kevin followed the sound of Andrew’s path around the other room almost desperately. When he reappeared in the doorway it was like seeing the sun come back out from behind a cloud. 

He placed a glass of water on the dresser. 

“Drink that.” He said and then started patting his pockets. “I’m going.” 

Kevin’s heart all at once seized. His muscles locked and he couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe because this was everything he knew was going to happen. 

More time, he wished he had more time. He wanted to shout and he wanted to scream, beg, plead. He wanted a chance to explain but he didn’t know what words he could possibly say that could change anything. He had failed. He was a failure and he had no one to blame for this except himself and— 

“_Kevin._” Andrew was suddenly next to him, saying his name like it wasn’t the first. 

He didn’t know he'd closed his eyes but they snapped open all the same and Andrew was close, a hand reached out but not touching in the direction of Kevin’s own. His fingers were gripped tight in the sheets and he couldn’t uncurl them through the tremors that were rapidly taking over him. 

“I…” He tried to speak, choked. 

“I’m going out to get us breakfast.” Andrew enunciated every word carefully, deliberately. When Kevin flicked a surprised glance to his face there was the smallest trace of irritation in his eyes. Not at Kevin he realised but at himself. It was a look Kevin and Neil had learnt to read when Andrew struggled with the right words to convey what he meant and ultimately failed. 

Kevin forced himself to nod even as his lungs still tried to constrict. 

“Shower before I get back,” Andrew ordered before pausing and his jaw ticked minutely. “I _will_ be back Kevin.” 

Kevin couldn’t do anything but nod again, the sudden and sharp crush of fear from only moments prior to rendering him mute. A mantra of _too close, too close and maybe, maybe, maybe I have time_ circled around so fast he felt dizzy with it. 

“Kevin,” Andrew stressed his name. “Tell me if you understand.”

There was very little he understood, even less that he believed. He thought, even as he managed to open his mouth and force out a yes, that Andrew could see that clearly. 

…

It didn’t occur to him to wonder what had happened to the half-full bottle of vodka until he stepped back out into the main room. 

When the front door had clicked shut behind Andrew he had staggered slowly to the shower, legs unsteady and head throbbing. The hot water helped clear some of the fuzz from his mind but not the thrumming fear that Andrew might not come back. Every second he stood under the spray felt like the moment he might lose everything the instance he looked away, as if Andrew would vanish like the water down the drain. 

He downed the glass of water only because he had been told to. 

He put on an old sweater of Wymack’s that he had borrowed one night when he had stayed with him, and never returned because he had wanted to keep it. 

When he forced his feet to take him out of the bedroom his whole body came to a stop like flipping a switch. 

The bottle had been moved, he was certain. Where he was sure the night before it had been hidden on a far back surface behind Andrew's body it was now sitting dead centre on the counter, visible and reachable wherever in the small room Kevin was to go. 

It was a test, that much was obvious. It explained why Andrew had wanted to leave alone to go get them breakfast, why he made sure Kevin knew he was going before he did. He wanted Kevin to know it was intentional. He wanted to see whether Kevin would take the bait. 

It hurt, even though it shouldn’t. It felt cruel even though he knew he had only bought the suspicion on himself. He knew Andrew was gathering information, knew he was testing just how much leash Kevin had to be given before he would try and hang himself with it. 

He exhaled shakily as he approached the counter, reaching out and pressing the tip of a single finger to the lid. The urge to take just one sip was immediate and it sickened Kevin, at that moment, how far he had slipped so quickly. 

He pulled his finger away quickly, a sharp and painful breath making him grit his teeth together. He didn’t want to be like this. He had _stopped_ being like this. He had stopped spending every day waiting for the next opportunity he could dull everything pointed in his chest, could use alcohol to forget the ugliness that only returned to him as nightmares at night regardless. 

It had gotten better,_ he_ had gotten better. Until he wasn’t anymore. 

He reached out and picked the bottle up by its neck. He didn’t know what Andrew expected him to do and spending more than a brief moment wondering the answer to that made his skin crawl coldly. He wasn’t sure what thought nauseated him more, that Andrew thought he would cave immediately or that he had a misplaced belief that Kevin was capable of control. 

The decision was made for him when he heard the sound of a keycard being pushed into the door and the following chime before the handle rattled. His feet moved him towards the sink before thought caught up and he unscrewed the lid, letting it clatter against the bottom of the sink as he upended the bottle in one motion. The contents rushed out and he felt like his stomach churn along with it. 

He could feel Andrew enter the room behind him, could feel his eyes travel across his back and follow his arm, track him as the bottle emptied and he placed it with a small noise on the side. Kevin was too afraid to turn and see what sentiment was in his eyes. Was he proud of Kevin? Surprised? 

“Kevin.”

He couldn’t help but tense at Andrew’s' voice, his shoulders creeping up. He tried to respond but when he opened his mouth he had no words. 

There was a rustle of air from beside him and he held himself locked in place as he felt Andrew move up next to him, kept his eyes firmly forwards as he was studied. Andrew's arm reached around him slowly and picked up the discarded bottle. When the warmth of him moved away he heard the clink as it was deposited into the bin. 

“Kevin,” Andrew said again and his tone was more instruction this time, a tone he had used many times with Kevin when he was steering him away from a ledge. It shouldn’t be a comfort but it was and his body unstuck. 

Andrew was already walking towards the small lounge area, placing wrapped food on the small table and separating their coffee orders. He flicked a hand at Kevin when he shuffled forwards, gesturing to a seat and Kevin took it with all the confidence of a man approaching his final meal. 

“Eat,” Andrew ordered him when they were settled on opposite sides of the low table. 

They ate in silence and Kevin didn’t taste anything he put in his mouth. It felt fifty-fifty for whether he’d throw it back up afterwards. Andrew didn’t look at him the entire time, sitting across from Kevin in the small space that might as well be a canyon. It was both the most painful act for Kevin at the moment and his single greatest relief. He didn’t know what he was going to say when Andrew asked and ask he surely would. 

Andrew ate with slow methodical bites the way he always did, collected and cleared their trash after the same way. When he resettled himself Kevin could feel the change in the room, the sudden oppression of tension. 

He forced himself to look up from where he had been studying his knees to meet Andrew’s eyes that were now locked onto him intently. 

“Are you angry?” He blurted before he could stop himself, afraid of the answer but needing to know how much he had damaged. 

Andrew's jaw ticked. “Should I be?” 

Do you think you did anything wrong, Kevin heard. 

“I’m sorry.” He tried, guilt and shame making the food in his stomach roll. 

Andrew eyed him critically, arms resting loosely across his chest but his posture anything but relaxed. 

“That you did it or that you got caught?” He asked. 

Kevin flinched and averted his eyes. Both, he wanted to say. He was sorry he couldn’t handle life apart without falling back on old habits. He was sorry he hadn’t been able to keep his decline from once again bulldozing into Andrew's life. He was sorry he was a burden, that he didn't know how to do better. 

He was always supposed to be able to do better. 

“Did you lie to us that night?” Andrew asked when it was clear Kevin couldn’t find his way to an honest answer. 

The question took him by surprise and he frowned, glancing back up at Andrew.

“What night?”

“The night you sent that picture.” 

It took Kevin a second to put it together but when he did he could feel a flicker of annoyance and knew Andrew saw it when his eyes narrowed the tiniest amount. 

“I didn’t drink that night.”

“You were angry,” Andrew said and there was something that crept into his voice there, a challenge. 

“I didn’t drink that night.” He tried to keep his voice steady but he knew Andrew could hear the guilt he was trying to suppress all the same. 

“Something happened.” Andrew accused and Kevin nodded slowly, afraid of the truth but equally as afraid of lying to Andrew's face. 

“The next day, when I went to the store I,” Kevin trailed off. 

“You bought a bottle.” Andrew finished for him and he didn’t sound disappointed. Maybe he had run out of disappointment to feel, and was simply left with the resignation of Kevin’s failures. He wanted to feel angry about it, and had felt angry about it at the moment, but the emotion was hard to raise when his actions had proven Andrew right. 

“Yes.” He confirmed needlessly. 

There was a heavy pause and Kevin waited for his punishment, for Andrew to wash his hands of the whole situation, of him. There was a bubble of panic waiting just under the surface and he knew when it burst he wasn’t going to be able to find his way to the surface again. It was selfish to want Andrew to stay, to want him to take Kevin by the hand and hold him up when he couldn’t find a way to do it for himself. 

“I should have trusted you,” Andrew said and the words made little sense to Kevin, didn’t match with the worsening scenarios running through his head. 

“I made you feel...” Andrew gritted his teeth over his words and then huffed almost inaudibly. “I suggested that you could not handle yourself and put you in a situation where you felt you had to prove me wrong.”

It took the wheels in Kevin’s head spinning a moment to understand what he was saying. 

“No,” He argued, feeling unsteady. “No, that’s not it. I _wanted_ to go out, I felt good about going out. You didn’t,” He stumbled over his thoughts. 

He hadn’t wanted to prove anything, not really. He had wanted to enjoy himself. He had wanted to exercise the freedom to spend time with his team and he had wanted to let himself feel comfortable in an environment he usually only felt safe in with Neil and Andrew by his side. Sending them that photo had been spiteful and he had wanted to show them that they were wrong but it hadn’t been that spite that had had him reaching for a bottle the following day at the store. 

It hadn’t even really been that Andrew had had doubts about him. It had hurt, of course, it had hurt, but it had been the walking away. 

“You left.” He said. “When you decided that I couldn’t do it you left.” 

His temper sparked like a nearly smothered ember gasping for air when Andrew went to speak and Kevin snapped across him before he could. 

“You gave up on me before even giving me a chance.” Saying the words out in the open felt like taking his own fist and burying it into his chest. 

“I only wanted you to listen to me.”

Andrew's expression was intense, his focus pin-like on Kevin and it was everything Kevin had wanted for weeks and nothing like how he thought it would be. All the words he had kept locked inside that he thought would send the man running only seemed to lock him in place, all but vibrating with growing tension. He should stop talking before he said something he couldn’t take back, should beg forgiveness for his weakness before it cost him the one thing he couldn’t afford to lose. 

He carried on. 

“You didn’t understand, not that night, not after.” 

He didn’t notice he was straining out his chair until his body gave like a stretched spring and he fell back into his seat. 

“You didn’t tell me,” Andrew said and for all his body was coiled his voice was controlled. 

“You weren’t here.” Kevin huffed, shuffling his feet irritably. 

“You didn’t ask me to be.”

It was such a simple sentence. It shouldn’t have as much weight as it did, shouldn’t have him feeling like he all at once needed to be anywhere but here having this conversation. It was just like Andrew to be able to so quickly get to the heart of the problem. 

He was standing before he could stop himself. 

“I didn’t know how.” He snapped. His hands shook but for once it didn’t feel like panic. 

Andrew watched his rise with little concern. 

“You did.” Andrew disagreed and Kevin couldn’t help but see red. 

“Really?” He growled and he started pacing the small area between them like a caged animal. He felt like a caged animal, like every dark twisted thing inside of was suddenly batting against the trappings of his ribs to be set free. 

“It was that simple? It _wasn’t _that simple. You didn’t trust me for even a night. How was I supposed to ask you for help after that?” 

He heard Andrew shift in his seat but didn’t slow his path to turn and look. 

“You weren’t _here_.” He said again needlessly, desperately. 

“You didn’t trust us.” Andrew shot at him and Kevin faltered in his steps, swinging round to face Andrew again and finding him also on his feet. 

“You can accuse me all you want but you didn’t call us because you thought we didn’t trust you. You didn’t call us because you didn’t trust us to be there if you asked.” 

“That’s not true,” Kevin argued. 

“Then why didn’t you call us Kevin?” 

“I didn’t know how.” He repeated but his voice was weaker now, all his annoyance and anger draining out of him like an unplugged sink. 

“Why didn’t you call us?” Andrew asked again. 

“This is stupid,” Kevin shook his head.

“Why didn’t you call us?”

“I didn’t know how!”

Andrew took one deliberate step forward. “You did know. You chose not to. Why didn’t you call us Kevin?” 

How could he explain that every second he spent with them felt like the last? That every moment felt like a soon to be a memory. How it was hard to take comfort in their presence when it already felt like it was gone? He didn’t see the hours they got to spend joined just the ticking clock until they would once again be apart. He felt like he could never take enough from their visits, could never feel enough to fill the void that grew and grew in his chest. He wanted to dig so hard into their skin that they couldn’t untangle themselves from him. He touched with the tips of his fingers so maybe it wouldn’t hurt as much to let go. He craved them every minute they were apart but couldn’t bring himself to get close when they met. It hurt too much. Everything hurt too much. 

“Because I couldn’t give you the chance to leave!” Kevin exploded, matching Andrew and slamming to a stop in front of him. “I couldn’t take that risk, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear? I was _scared_, I'm always scared! If I told you what I'd done and you left-- I couldn’t, I can’t,” His throat squeezed painfully.

“I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t do it and then it just got worse and everything got harder and I didn’t know how to make it stop and I couldn’t lose either of you and--”

“Stop it.” Andrew’s hand was in front of his face in a moment, not touching but forcing Kevin to pay attention to him. “Calm down, now.” 

He wanted to be able to be calm. He wanted to let the thick feeling in his chest smother him until it could make everything go away. 

“Kevin,” Andrew repeated and his voice pitched lower, softer. “Look at me.” 

After all this time Kevin was still all but powerless to disobey. 

Andrew’s eyes were close and golden, intense and calculating but they were the eyes that kept Kevin steady in his most desperate moments. They were the first eyes to see what Kevin had survived and called it trauma, the eyes that had watched over him while he tried to find a way to rebuild what he had lost. They were the amber depths that saw through everything Kevin pretended to be to what he could be. They were the eyes that stripped his mentally and physically, that trailed over his body with a hunger that felt like worship instead of ownership. 

“I’m sorry.” Kevin deflated, feeling defeated, defenceless. It was too hard, too painful pressing barriers around himself and between them. 

It was only because they were so close that Kevin could feel the almost relieved exhale of air that left Andrew as he seemed to see something in Kevin’s own eyes. He lowered his hand and Kevin wanted to grab hold of it. 

“You should have called me.” He told Kevin quietly, no louder than it needed to travel the gap between them. “I would have come. I _always_ come.” 

Kevin shuddered. 

“I know, okay, I just -,”

“I knew something had changed that morning,” Andrew admitted and his face took on a haunted look, the same expression he made when he was rewatching scenes from his childhood play out. 

That morning flickered behind Kevin’s eyes too. The coffee, the kiss, the desperate fear that he had been seen through and the ache when Andrew had turned his back on him. 

“It was just a morning Andrew.” He mirrored automatically. 

Andrew's gaze didn’t waver. “No, it wasn’t.” 

There wasn’t any answer Kevin could give to that that wasn’t a lie. He felt small standing there, physically tall but diminutive in every other way. He didn’t want to be this way. He didn’t want to always have so much more left to learn, so much more growing to do. 

“Kevin,” Andrew nudged and held a hand between them, palm raised and offering. “Come sit back down?” 

There was an echo of a no on the back of his tongue and when he stared at Andrew's hand he remembered using it the night before. When he looked up at Andrew he knew he was thinking about it too. It sat across his face like shadow and Kevin remembered how he had jumped back, the way he had clenched his hands into fists. 

“I was not angry at you for saying no,” Andrew said as if he could read the tumbling of Kevin’s thoughts. 

“I know.” It was not a lie. 

Placing his palm into Andrew’s felt like offering up his heart and when their fingers slotted together it thudded surely and steadily. _This_, it sang, _this is everything_. He let himself be guided until they were sat on the same sofa, swung his legs until they mirrored each other cross-legged in the centre, knees touching. 

He didn’t know what time it was but the sun was warm through the windows. For a moment all they did was breathe, connected truly for maybe the first time since Kevin had left the only real home he could remember. 

“You shouldn’t have to keep doing this.” He sighed, exhausted. He felt like he hadn’t been anything but for weeks. 

Andrew tilted his head a fraction and pressed one knee firmer forwards.

“Why?” 

“You shouldn’t need to protect me anymore. Not from this. I should be…” 

“Better?” Andrew finished for him. “We are not required to be anything Kevin.” 

“I’m not supposed to need this anymore.” He exhaled the instinctive urge to hide making his words waver. “Our deal, it’s been over a long time now.” 

That seemed to rattle Andrew in some way and he tensed before Kevin felt him almost force his muscles back down. 

“Because Riko is dead?” He asked, with a small edge to his voice. 

“Because I didn’t keep my end of the deal.”

Andrew didn’t need Kevin anymore or his end of their promise, the end that he tried so hard to uphold but had inevitably dropped. Ever since the first moment, he had met Andrew all he had wanted was to be enough to help the other man live. 

“You think you failed?” Andrew's voice was tinged with puzzlement. He leaned forwards until he was bent over where their knees joined, peering up into Kevin’s eyes unblinkingly. “Kevin, I’m still here.” 

Kevin’s face fell. “But I didn’t give you anything.” 

“You know that is not true,” Andrew said like Kevin was being particularly dense. When Kevin only stared silently he rolled his eyes up for a second and huffed.

“I forgot how much you need things spelt out for you.”

Kevin started to scoff but Andrew never gave him a chance to finish. 

“You gave me something to live for Kevin. You gave me Neil. You’re the one who brought him to me.” 

It was a rare and raw display of honest vulnerability that would never have made it past his lips more than a handful of months ago. 

“It’s not the same.” Kevin tried to argue. “I wanted Neil for the team not for—”

“You let me have you.” Andrew cut over him. “You never walked away from me Kevin. You more than kept your end of the deal when you told us yes.” 

Andrew's words threatened to unravel all the knots in Kevin’s chest. They gnawed at the strings he had woven round his ribs and the thoughts he had let fester, rot. It would be so easy to let himself believe him. He could do it in a heartbeat but...but it would fall apart the same way it always did when he was alone. When words were not enough, the sheer pressure of being just one made moving though the world feel impossible. 

“But you don’t need me.” He said with what felt like desperation. There was nothing about the voices that whispered cruel things to him that he wanted to be true but the alternative, that he had been wrong all this time to not just _talk_ to them… “You said you don’t.”

Andrew placed one hand on Kevin's knee. “I never said that.”

“Neil…” Kevin stopped himself but Andrew caught it immediately, eyebrows furrowed quickly in suspicion.

“Neil what?” 

Was it possible, after all, that it had caused, that he had assumed wrong?

“You didn’t hear him?” He asked with dread. 

“Hear _what_?” 

Andrew didn’t know what Neil had said. _We don’t need you._ If he hadn’t heard then maybe--and Kevin shivered with the thought--maybe it meant he didn’t agree. It was almost too much to hope for, more than he knew how to take in at that moment. 

“Kevin, what did Neil say?” Andrew growled and Kevin clamped his mouth shut tight. 

He couldn’t tell him. If he told him and then he agreed anyway it would hurt more now when they were finally in front of each other. He couldn’t let Andrew know what Neil had done either. He would be angry, Kevin knew he would and he didn’t want that. Didn’t want to be the cause of friction between his two partners, didn’t want to be the splinter in their own relationship. 

He shook his head mutely. 

“You’re assuming I’m operating with information I don't have.” Andrew accused. “Something happened and knowing you two idiots--”

“It was nothing.” He rushed out. “It was a misunderstanding.” 

Kevin had never seen Andrew’s face shift so viciously in his direction before. 

“_Don’t_.” He snarled and he was pushing himself back before Kevin could react, untangling himself from the sofa and stalking away from Kevin with heavy steps. He walked to one end of the room and then the other before spinning in place and holding one finger up in Kevin’s direction. 

“Don’t” He repeated. His hand shook slightly and Kevin felt his stomach plummet painfully. 

“_I’m sorry_.” He stressed. He was sorry this was happening. He was sorry he was causing it. He was sorry he kept on doing things that hurt the people around him. 

Andrew huffed out a breath that was choppy and strained. His hands darted down to pat his pockets and then he was pulling a pack of cigarettes free, gripping his lighter so tightly Kevin could see his fingers go white around it. 

The instinctive urge to tell Andrew he couldn’t smoke inside was stifled by the fear that the alternative would mean being left alone. 

“Andrew,” He tried but snapped his mouth shut when Andrew cut a hand across the air in front of him harshly. 

He turned on his heel abruptly, grabbing one of the high stools by the counter and dragging it out with a screech against the floor. A cigarette was between his lips the second he landed in it, lighter quickly following. The snick of it catching echoed between Kevin's ears and he watched as Andrew’s cheeks hollowed around a large inhale. 

He felt like he was waiting on a precipice, as if his whole world was about to be pulled out from under his feet because he just _never stopped_ _saying the wrong thing._

Andrew had smoked through nearly the entire cigarette before he spoke again. 

“I can’t do anything if you don’t tell me what you need.”

Irritation flared under his skin dully. 

“I don’t need anything.” He lied, unable to stop. “Like you, right?” 

“Is there another bottle hidden here?” Andrew asked cruelly, lighting another cigarette with two sharp flicks of the lighter. “Would that make your tongue looser?” 

When Kevin didn’t react his expression turned into a sneer. 

“Go on.” He said in a faux calm tone and waved his hand once before taking a long drag of his cigarette. “It’s what you want to do, isn’t it? Go drown your woes in the bottom of a bottle somewhere.”

Kevin cringed back into his seat, the words landing on his chest like bullets. He could feel them lodge there, digging into his skin and burning. He bought his hands up instinctively, curling them in front of his chest like he could protect himself, could hold himself together between his fingertips. 

Andrew watched his movements with dark eyes, tracking every flex and curve of his fingers and scrutinizing his face. What did he think of Kevin? Cowering in front of him, so incapable now of holding himself upright. He wasn’t himself anymore, that much he knew, wasn’t the Kevin Day anyone wanted or needed. The thought only made him shrink away more. 

“Still expecting me to break you, Day?” Andrew accused and the statement made the very air in the room vibrate with tension. 

“That’s not fair.” Kevin frowned weakly. “That was months ago Andrew and we dealt with it.”

Andrew eyed him stonily. “Did we?”

He thought they had. He thought he had made Andrew understand, had picked it apart until he himself could understand. The whole evening had been a hazy mess except for those few words. He hadn’t stopped drinking that night, couldn’t with the imprint of Andrew’s expression locked behind his eyelids. It had taken days before Kevin could bring it up, weeks until he could let himself be dragged along with Andrew to Dobson's office; even longer still until he realised that Andrew wouldn’t have bothered if he didn’t care, if the words hadn’t unsettled him, if he hadn’t wanted something better for them. 

“We went to Dobson because you wanted us to.” He tried. “I told you I was sorry I said--”

“I never wanted you to be sorry you said it.” Andrew cut over him, a spark of temper in his voice. 

“Then what did you want?”

It was minutes before Andrew responded, his expression staying still but his eyes flicking over Kevin as if he couldn’t believe he didn’t already know the answer.

“I never wanted you to be afraid of me.” 

Kevin’s throat went dry. “I’m not.”

Andrew snorted an ugly sound, folding his arms across his chest. The bands on his forearms pulled and Kevin could see the outlines of his knives; always so close, always within reach when he needed protecting. Did he feel like he needed protecting from Kevin? 

“You keep flinching,” Andrew said into the room.

“It’s not because I’m afr--”

“I’d let you,” Andrew interrupted him again. “That’s what you told me. You’d let me hurt you. Is that what you’ve been doing? If you really thought you were unwanted Kevin then why are you still here? Why are you letting us hurt you?” 

“I’m not,” Kevin tried to say but the words caught behind his teeth. That wasn’t what he was doing. He knew they weren’t hurting him on purpose, knew that it was his inability to cope that was causing friction, that his neediness and loneliness were creating wedges he should be able to get past. 

“You don’t hurt me.” He shook his head roughly, the thought making him feel sick. 

“You _are_ hurting though,” Andrew said simply as if he was stating the weather. Sure, certain, blunt. 

“I’m,” Kevin went to say but didn’t have an end to the sentence. It did hurt, everything lately hurt. Being alone in his apartment, being alone in his bed. It hurt trying to keep words behind his teeth on phone calls and it hurt trying to cling to something that was never really in his reach anymore. The weight of still being owned hurt, the shackles tied around the ankles of his career. It hurt trying to have friends that he couldn’t stop pushing away. 

It hurt to exist, to keep on day after day trying to be something that he no longer knew if he could manage. It hurt trying not to be the raven, the pet, the second star to a sun that had already died. He wanted to remember how it felt to not feel buried, to not feel like there was a stone ceiling between him and the life he wanted to have. 

He didn’t want to be number two. He didn’t want to be Kevin Day, Exy prodigy. He didn’t want to be the left behind piece of the relationship they had started to build all those months ago. He just wanted to _be_. 

“Kevin,” Andrew said his name like he was whispering a prayer and when Kevin opened his eyes he hadn’t realised he had squeezed shut, Andrew was watching him with an expression so open he looked cracked down the middle. 

“What do you want?”

Kevin staggered forwards on a shaky exhale, stepped into the space between Andrew’s knees that he offered automatically and shivered when Andrew’s palms immediately came up to rest on his hips. His grip was steady, strong, grounding. 

“I want you.” He said, rushed out softly before the words shrivelled back inside of himself. 

“I’ve always just wanted you. That's why I’m still here Andrew. I don’t know how to let you go.”

Andrew's next breath rattled shakily. 

“I’m here.” He said and Kevin shivered, forced himself to keep his eyes open as Andrew stared at him like he was the only thing worth looking at. 

“I know.” He nodded a little too forcefully, a little too desperately. “I know.” 

The sheer relief those words gave nearly took his legs from under him. Andrew was _here_. He was here and he wasn’t alone. He was here and despite all the screwed up Kevin was, he hadn’t left. 

“You’re here.” He said with weak awe and leaned forwards until he could rest his forehead against Andrew’s. The press of warm skin was better than sitting under any sun. 

Andrew only nodded gently, his grip tightening, pulling like he wanted Kevin to crawl into him as much as Kevin wanted to disappear into the man too. For a moment, the world stopped turning. For a moment, Kevin’s mind stopped spinning like a barely contained storm. _Andrew was here. _

“You need to pack,” Andrew said eventually, rolling his forehead along Kevin’s and humming a little when Kevin sighed. “Flight leaves soon.” 

Kevin frowned as he pulled back just enough to see Andrew’s face. He was so pretty, he couldn’t help but think, so soft when you knew how to creep past all the edges and corners. 

“But,” He started to say. 

“I can’t do this here.” Andrew offered honestly. “We need to talk Kevin, really talk, clearly.”

It wasn’t a threat but it made him feel as anxious as if it had been. 

“But my flights not until this evening.”

He was meant to go sightseeing with Aisling, he remembered distantly, plans they had made weeks ago before he’d all but trampled on that friendship. 

Andrew pushed once on Kevin’s hips to get him to move back, sliding from the stool with a muted thump. 

“We’re getting on a different one.”

“Where are we going?”

Andrew reached up one hand, slow and with plenty of time for Kevin to stop him. He pressed a fingertip under the tattoo on his cheek and let it rest there for a moment. When he let his hand fall away his expression was the most peaceful it had been since his eyes had landed on the bottle in Kevin’s grip the night before. 

“We all need to talk, with Neil too.” Andrew said before his voice became the tiniest amount wistful. “We’re going to go home.” 


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was writing this chapter and realized about 5k in that there was no way to fit everything in to it that i was planning, so I've split it. I promise all three of our boys will all be present in the next one! 
> 
> The only reason my thoughts come together to make sense is because Essence29 is the best proof reader i could ever ask for : ) 
> 
> Please feel free to come talk to me on my Tumblr (I'm under the same name) or ask me questions, I'd love to interact with you : )

Calling his Coach goes as badly as he expected it to. 

The phone he had turned off the second he had gotten to the hotel the night before was flooded with texts and missed phone calls when he picked it up between repacking the few things he had bought with him. Andrew was in the other room still and he could hear the faint murmur of his voice. He didn’t know who he was talking to. Neil, most likely. Kevin didn’t feel brave enough to ask. 

He couldn’t bring himself to open any of the messages from Aisling, felt sick to his stomach with the one he managed to read from Donovan before closing it again. It still floored him that no matter what he seemed to say to them, how little he was able to offer them, they kept trying to reach out to him. It was a kindness he didn’t deserve. 

His hand shook as he dialled his Coach’s number. 

“_Finally!_” She snapped after only a couple of rings. “_New rule Day. For every minute you turn your phone off I'm benching you from games._”

“You wouldn’t.” He sighed, exhausted immediately. “You need me to win.”

“_I need to know my players are okay._” She practically growled. “_Imagine my distress when I gathered our team to celebrate our win and found you missing._” 

“I just needed--”

“_Kevin Day, ask me if I’m interested in your excuses. Anything could have happened to you. It is my job to keep you all safe and you ran off without telling any member of the team or staff. You’re lucky Watts got through to you before I had them knock your door in._” 

Kevin's hand tightened on his phone and he inhaled sharply. 

“She what?” 

There was a frustrated huff of air. “_Aisling. She told us about your migraine. In the future Day, we have a team doctor, talk to them if you’re about to pass out on my pitch._” 

Kevin was so thoroughly stunned he couldn’t find a way to answer. Aisling had covered for him. After everything he had done, everything he had said, she had kept everyone away from his door without even knowing why. He didn’t deserve her. He didn’t deserve that type of blind faith or compassion. He felt all at once more like an asshole for being too afraid to read her messages. 

_“Day?_”

Kevin ran his tongue over his lips and had to clear his throat roughly of all the guilt was collecting. 

“I didn’t think.” He managed, abandoning his packing and walking over to the window. The glass was warm when he pressed one palm against it, leaning his weight forwards until it could hold him up. 

“_Next time, do._” His Coach sighed. “_Don’t think we haven’t noticed you’ve been acting strange lately. Every practice I have someone commenting on it.”_

It was different, he knew, than being watched by Ichirou, but the reminder of being studied still made his skin crawl. 

“_I was going to give you till after this game to sort your shit out._” She carried on. She was brusque by nature and Kevin wondered if all Coaches were like that, covering their concern with distance. It made him miss his dad so strongly he had to press his grip a little tighter against the glass. 

“I don’t.” He said softly and inhaled shakily.

“_Don’t what?_”

“Have my shit together.” 

There was a stunned silence and Kevin wondered where she was, whether she was alone in her room or with the rest of the team's staff. They were supposed to have the day to themselves, a promised reward if they won their game or a distraction if they lost. 

“_Do I need to be worried?_”

Kevin hummed. He felt pulled open and exposed, his clash with Andrew baring all his vulnerable parts. He wasn’t sure he knew how to put them away yet. 

“Maybe.” He answered honestly. 

“_Kevin, _“ She said and he heard her suck in a breath sharply. 

“I need a day or two, maybe more.”

“_I don’t think it’s a good--_”

“I won’t be alone.” He tried to placate her. The words stung. They were true, physically at least. He couldn’t yet tell if they would remain that way. 

She was quiet for such a long time that Kevin turned his head just enough to make sure that the call hadn’t dropped. 

_“I’m giving you three_.” She said eventually, words slow like she didn’t want to offer them at all. “_You call me after three and then I want a proper conversation out of you._” 

He nodded even though she couldn’t see. “I’ll have my shit sorted by then.” 

“_Not what I asked for Day._” She scoffed but it was tinged with something sad. Was he letting her down? Was she looking back on the moment he decided to sign him with regret? It must be a disappointment, to think you had taken on a prized stallion to find it had already been broken at the knees. 

“_Three days._” She repeated. 

He could hear the sound of movement in the doorway behind him but couldn’t find the will to bring his head up from where it hung between his shoulders. His palm was uncomfortably sticky against the glass and it only served to make him think of how cold the glass of the bottle had been the night before. Goosebumps broke out over his skin in waves as the air behind him shifted, as a presence he could recognise blindfolded, took sentinel at his back like so many times before. 

He took a deep pull of air and tried not to let it choke him. 

“Three days.” 

…

They didn’t talk as they left the hotel room, as Kevin handed in the keycard in at the desk and as Andrew hailed down a cab on the street. They barely even looked at each other as they made their way through security and checked in and when they found their gate in departures, Andrew closed his eyes the moment he found them a seat in a secluded corner. 

Kevin didn’t know if he even wanted to speak. He didn’t know if he could stand the silence either. Their arms touched where they sat, pressed elbow to wrist in the small seats but it felt hollow, like trying to force a connection that just wouldn't take. He wanted to wrap his arm around the back of Andrew's seat so he could rest in the curve of his arm. He wanted to pace the floor until their flight called to try and dissipate the nervous energy thrumming through him. 

Flights with Andrew had never stopped being a delicate ordeal. His fear of heights, no matter how much he denied it, was ingrained tightly within him and every take-off and landing saw him coiled like a spring. They had found ways to help, to make it easier. 

Between him and Neil, they had a routine, a system, one they knew Andrew would never thank them for but allowed himself to be led down all the same. He’d let Neil take his hand between his own, trace the spaces where Andrew's fingers met until the man would turn his grip and hold on. Kevin would spend hours of their flights just watching the almost revenant way Andrew would pass a thumb over Neils burnt knuckles, taking comfort in the familiar sensation that could only be Neil. 

It had taken longer for him to lean on Kevin. Everything with Kevin always took longer, took more trust, took more time to allow. The weight of Andrew leaning his head against his shoulder while the plane shook around them was still one of his favourite feelings. Andrew never fell asleep. He couldn’t, but Kevin would be hyper-aware of every exhale that felt just a little easier than the one before, as if for one moment, he let Kevin be the one to hold him up. 

He doubted he could be trusted with something so precious now. He forced himself to push all thoughts of it aside before the disappointment and loss swallowed him. They were too open here. Too public. It already wasn’t safe to be seen so close together seemingly at random. The phantom sensation of being watched made him squirm in his seat uncomfortably. 

Forcing his brain to detract from the paranoia sliding over him never got any easier and he grasped quickly on to anything else to think about. 

Home, Andrew had said that morning, they were going home. He hadn’t realised home meant Columbia until his ticket was shoved into his hands. He knew there was no way he would call his empty apartment home but it had surprised him all the same that Andrew wasn’t taking him back there. 

He hadn’t yet worked out if he should be glad or not. 

He hadn’t been back to that house since the day he had left Palmetto for what felt like for good. He’d always told himself he never had the time but, sitting in uncomfortable seats with the low hum of activity around him, it startled him to realise that he had never tried. 

He’d never looked up flights once. Had never even considered asking his team for a day, an afternoon where he could slip away early. He’d looked at the miles as an impassable distance and then wallowed in how little Neil and Andrew seemed willing to cross it. He was a hypocrite. He was selfish. He was--

“Kevin.” Andrew poked his thigh and he jumped, drawing his leg away on instinct. 

Andrew's eyes were much too knowing when he turned to meet them. 

“We’re boarding.” 

He was no longer sure he wanted to get on the plane but one look across the determined set of Andrew’s mouth and he knew he had very little choice. For better or worse, he was going home. 

...

Andrew didn’t so much as lean even an inch to the side the whole flight, his back a rigid board as the plane hurtled along the runway. His hands gripped the armrest uselessly and even though Kevin knew he’d already made this journey alone once to get here, the guilt that he had ripped Andrew's ability to find comfort in him in a time of fear was enough to make him wish he could slide through the belly of the plane; down, down until he was falling through open air. 

“I wanted to see you.” It was the only time Andrew spoke during the flight, halfway through with the overhead lights dimmed. The suddenness of him talking knocked Kevin from the half dose he had managed to succumb to and he rolled his head along the headrest to see Andrew staring determinedly forward. 

“That’s why I came to your hotel room, why I went to your match before.” He paused and Kevin could see him chew into the inside of his cheek like it would help him dislodge his words.

“I wanted to see you.” He settled on repeating.

There were a hundred things Kevin could say to that. I wanted to see you too, I always want to see you. I’m glad you came. I wish you had stayed away. I wish we didn’t have to be here like this.

He didn’t say any of them, just turned his face back towards the window and tried to keep breathing. 

…

He didn’t know what he expected when he walked through the front door of the Columbia house. 

It hadn’t changed, at least, it hadn’t changed in any way that mattered. It had been used since Kevin had left, of course, it had. There was evidence of all of them scattered around the downstairs. A pair of Neil’s running shoes were by the door, a spare he kept borne from a sense of preparedness to flee that never really left him. Textbooks of Aaron’s and a glittery coffee mug of Nicky’s that hadn’t made it to the sink. Laying on the coffee table was a pile of novels Andrew had worked his way through.

What surprised him was the sweater hooked neatly over the back of the sofa, the water bottle wedged beside the toaster, the old notebook resting on the kitchen counter. They were all his. The last remnants of him left out on display as if he was going to walk back in and claim them. He didn’t remember leaving them here. If he had, he didn’t know what he would have expected the others to do with it. Send them to him, throw them away? Erase his presence from this house that had become a safe haven for all of Palmetto’s monsters. 

“Give it.” 

Kevin felt fingers nudge his and came back from his stunned assessment of the space to Andrew taking his bag. 

“I can take it.” He argued automatically but let his grip go anyway. 

“Didn’t ask,” Andrew responded over his shoulder, heading in the direction of the stairs without a backward glance. Kevin followed because it was the only thing he could do. 

Andrew's room had quickly become Andrew’s and Neil's room, and had become Andrew’s and Neil’s and Kevin’s room in those last few months too. They had spent one night here together before a new bed had been ordered, rushed delivered, and assembled with amused looks from Nicky and an eye roll from Aaron. It still hadn't quite been big enough for them all, the limitations of the room stopping them from getting something as decadent as the bed Kevin now owned. 

Kevin had liked it, secretly. He liked that the still too small space meant Neil had to lay a little closer to him. That the distance across was small enough across that on good nights he could lean over and let his knuckles trail over the skin of Andrew's shoulder. He missed when having them in arms reach was routine. 

Andrew threw his bag into the corner and when he turned Kevin became aware of how he was standing in the doorway, filling the space awkwardly. Andrew was silent for a long moment, eyes giving nothing away. 

“You can come in.” He said eventually, the tone bordering on irritated and Kevin shuffled on his feet. 

“I don’t have to stay here.”

Andrew's irritation only seemed to increase at that and he tilted his head even as his shoulders rose a little tightly. 

“Where else would you stay.” He didn’t lilt his sentence as a question, didn’t inflect like he actually wanted an answer. He said it as if it was fact, as if there really was no other alternative. It made unsticking his feet easier and he let himself walk into the room, cataloguing the space much as he had done with the downstairs. 

Spare clothes, Andrew’s and Neil’s, glasses and coffee mugs. Another stack of books that looked close to falling over and what looked like math worksheets with paw prints all down the edges. It smelled like them, like vanilla and smoke and boy. In the few seconds it took to stop in front of Andrew he was almost dizzy with the familiarity of it, the ache of home that thumped in his chest. 

Meeting Andrew’s eyes was no easier than it had been all day, all last night. It was harder, maybe, here in what was their cocoon, their safety. He’d let them see him stripped down to nothing for the first time here, a moment that had been harder than he thought it would be.

His past wasn’t written as violently on his body as Neil’s, his survival not carved into his flesh like Andrew. There were footnotes though, small scratchings in hidden places where the Nest's violence had been allowed to scar even him. He’d let them worship all the places where his fight had been stolen from him and hoped their touch was enough to give it back. 

Andrew's voice, when it interrupted his thoughts, was barely more than a hum in the silence. 

“You should sleep.” 

Was he too remembering all that had happened in just this one room? The first night that Andrew had had a nightmare, waking in the sheets with a cry trapped behind the cage of his teeth and not sent Kevin away? The morning where Neil had buried himself against Kevin’s skin like it could anchor his feet to the ground, the urge to run an almost unignorable itch. 

He felt both exhausted and as if he could never sleep again, lest everything changed when he closed his eyes. 

“I slept on the plane.” 

“You pretended to sleep.” 

He didn’t think that Andrew had been paying enough attention to him to notice. He could only shrug in response. Andrew turned silently, walking over to the bed and pulling back the covers with a sure flick of his arm. Kevin’s pillow was still in the middle, still wedged between Neil’s and Andrew’s as if it was still waiting for him to claim it. It stung, the visual reminder of his place and where he had left it. _Behind._

“Sleep,” Andrew said again and Kevin let the lure of _their_ bed draw him closer, discarding his pants on the way but keeping his shirt. It felt strange, the thought of exposing himself here in front of Andrew in a place he no longer felt ownership to. 

His pillow, when he laid his head down on it gingerly, didn't smell like himself. It smelt like Neil. Like Andrew. The air in his lungs pushed painfully as he inhaled as deeply as he could, the sudden and frantic urge to take in as much as he could overwhelming. The feel of the covers moving startled him and he watched as Andrew drew them up almost robotically, laying them down without ever touching Kevin himself. 

He wanted to ask him to stay. He wanted him to climb into the bed and run his fingers through his hair the way he did when Kevin couldn’t find his way to sleep. He wanted to feel like he wasn’t alone. He wanted to feel. 

When Andrew stepped back the absence of him was cold. 

“I’m going to get groceries.” He said, enunciating slowly and Kevin remembered that morning in the hotel and the sheer panic of the suggestion of being left. 

“I won’t be more than an hour.” 

He swallowed against the childish urge to protest. 

“Okay.” 

There was something almost dissatisfied in Andrew's expression but he closed it off quickly. Every step he took away from the bed and towards leaving the room made Kevin ache, made him want to reach out and grip until he didn’t have to see Andrew's back walk out the door. He dug his fingers into the comforter and held his tongue. 

“Sleep,” Andrew said as he reached the door, looking back only once and his eyes roamed over Kevin’s covered form. 

Kevin closed his eyes, listened to the door click shut, the soft pad of footsteps on the carpet and the slight rise in noise that came from the front door opening. He waited for the roar of the Maserati even though he knew it wasn’t here, had spent a tense car ride with Andrew in the back of a cab from the airport. Of all things, it was that, oddly, that let him take a breath. 

He didn’t know if he could sleep. He didn’t know what he would find when he woke up, but he didn’t think he could have stood to hear the fading sounds of the Maserati once again leaving him behind. 

…

It was the smell of food that woke him. 

Andrew was turned towards the stove when he crept slowly down the stairs, walking into the kitchen with a hesitance he didn’t know how to shift. He felt guilty for thinking, for just a moment as he had blinked his eyes open, that Andrew would not come back. 

“What time is it?” He asked roughly, sliding into one of the chairs at the island that let him watch Andrew cook. It was one of his favourite things to do on the slow mornings they spent here. When he was still shuffling down hungover at noon, it was settling for him, watching the unhurried way Andrew went about preparing food. The mornings that they had spent here alone, where Kevin’s edges weren’t dulled by drink, had been intimate things, small snippets of time where Kevin could let himself watch the way Andrew's shoulders settled more easily within the simple processes. He liked sitting here and drinking his coffee, maybe with Neil dozing against his shoulder and relishing just being allowed to be there. 

“Late.” Was all Andrew said, adding something to the pan that made it sizzle for a moment. 

Kevin glanced at the window to see the Sun just starting to dim the edges of the sky. 

“You didn’t wake me up.” 

“Pass me the plates.” 

“Why didn’t you wake me?” 

There was a sharp sigh, an almost hostile quality to the way Andrew gripped the spatula in his hand and flipped something over. He hadn’t turned around once since Kevin had come down. 

“You needed to sleep.” He eventually said through what sounded like gritted teeth. 

“Have you?” Kevin asked with a flush of guilt that was becoming a near-constant feeling. 

Andrew didn’t answer him, which was answer enough. Kevin stood and pulled two plates from the top shelf, placing them beside the stove and being careful to not let his side brush up against Andrew’s. He didn’t receive any thanks when he turned to reclaim his seat. There was silence for a few minutes then, nothing but the occasional hiss of oil as Andrew cooked and the clink of china as the food was served. Andrew flicked the stove off eventually, dropping the still steaming pan into the sink and pausing before he picked up the two plates. 

Kevin resisted the urge to ask what was wrong. He knew that whatever it was, it could only be his fault. 

Andrew heaved himself into the chair opposite Kevin, pushing his food towards him almost harshly. 

“Eat.” 

When Kevin looked down his stomach filled with a warmth that for the first time in days, wasn’t being fanned by fear. So many months ago, when Kevin was learning to drop his vice and trying to find as many distractions as possible, he had taken every book out of the library that he could about Ireland. He’d devoured every bit of information available about the place his mother had come from, the place he had come from. 

It had been a secret urge at first, books tucked behind books and Internet searches disguised as Exy news. He didn’t know why he hid it, why he felt it would be embarrassing to be caught yearning after a place he couldn’t even remember. Slowly, he’d let himself share what he’d learnt, let himself talk about the rolling fields and the climbing cliffs, let the wistfulness in his voice come out as he described the history to Neil in the walk between classes. 

He hadn’t put much thought into food until Andrew had put a cookbook in front of him and told him to choose. He didn’t remember if his mom used to cook, what dishes she was good at and what ones she burnt. Nothing in the book was really suitable for his diet plan but when he had thumbed through the pages, it had been the furthest thing from his mind. 

It had been the first thing Andrew had made for him, ‘boxty’, cooked in this kitchen when they’d escaped all three of them for time alone. He hadn’t let Kevin watch, and had had to enlist Neil to distract him with wandering hands and warm kisses until he was done. Andrew had cooked them many things over the following months, but that first had always been Kevin's favourite. 

He looked at the small discs of carefully prepared potato and the bacon cooked crispy the way he liked and felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth. He let it grow almost shyly when he looked up to see Andrew watching him. 

“Thank you.” He said honesty, earnestly. 

Andrew held his gaze for only a moment, seeming almost embarrassed before he picked up his cutlery with a clatter. 

“Eat your food, Kevin.” He muttered and Kevin felt the embers in his stomach flare and catch all the way up his chest. He wanted to say it again, say it a thousand times but kept the words wisely to himself. 

…

He wasn’t allowed to help clean up. He could leave, settle himself into the living room or go back to bed, but Kevin stayed seated in his chair and watched the play of the muscles in Andrew's back as he washed the dishes methodically. The kitchen was hushed, no noise except the slap of water and the gentle ding of china. It should have been nice, would have been on any other day, at any other time. 

The longer Kevin sat, the more it just felt like stalling. 

When Andrew eventually finished, had tossed the towel he had used to dry his hands and turned to lean his back against the counter Kevin was already talking. 

“I’m sorry you have to keep going through this with me.” 

Andrew folded his arms, not betraying anything on his face. 

“Cooking?” 

It was Andrew's backhanded way of asking him to clarify, to be more specific, to use his words. It was a method that irritated Neil to no end and did little for Kevin either, usually. He only braced himself this time, trying to hang on to words before the ability to form them left him. 

“I’m not supposed to be like this anymore.” 

Andrew's face flickered. “You’re not _supposed_ to be anything.” 

“I’m supposed to get better,” Kevin argued, gripping the edge of his seat to try and keep himself steady. “Wasn’t that the point of it all?” 

“All?” 

“That year,” Kevin said through a shudder. “Riko and the Ravens and Neil's father,” He swallowed a little around his next words. “Easthaven and…”

“None of us are required to be better.” Andrew interrupted him. 

“You are.” Kevin said quietly, “Better.” He knew his words had taken Andrew by surprise from the way his eyes blinked quickly for a brief moment. 

“Neil is. You’ve both been through so much worse than me and you keep on going.” He rubbed a hand over his face before dropping it to clasp them together tightly. 

“I know I’m not as strong as you.”

Andrew grimaced. “It is not a competition.”

Wasn’t it though? Andrew faced his past with a frankly inspiring resolve to not let it define him. For every session he had with Betsy, every bad day that he fought through, he worked constantly to not let it stop him from living the way he wanted. For every step Neil took forwards in carving out a real identity, Kevin seemed to take one back. How much simpler must it have been for Andrew to be around Neil, so determined to keep the second life he had been given? How much easier was it for Neil to be lean on Andrew and his strength, than on Kevin?

Andrew moved before Kevin could put any of his thoughts to words. They were likely written all over his face, broadcasting into the room because he wasn’t in control of himself enough to shutter them. Andrew was around the counter and in front of him in the space of one breath and Kevin tensed. 

“I see,” Andrew told him, reaching out and holding Kevin’s chin between his fingers. His grip was solid but not hard and Kevin felt instantly caught. _I see_, Andrew told him and Kevin’s breath stuttered past his parted lips at the fierce way Andrew said it. 

“What do you see?” He whispered, almost afraid of the answer. 

Andrew tilted his head only a little. 

“You.” 

“I’m sorry,” Kevin said on a breath. He no longer knew what he was apologising for, the reasons piling up so high he didn’t know if he’d be able to keep his head up above them much longer. All his edges felt hazy under the intensity of Andrew's stare. He didn’t know where this was going and almost dazedly, he didn’t care. Andrew’s eyes were two points of precious stone and Kevin’s will to hide, to fight, melted away like shedding a skin that never really fit. 

Andrew's grip tightened the smallest amount and Kevin couldn’t pull his eyes away. 

“You are nothing to be sorry for,” Andrew said. “I see you. I see_ you_ and you are a force of fucking nature.” 

Kevin swallowed hard, trembling. “I don’t fee—”

“I see you.” Andrew cut over him. “Even when you don’t see yourself.”

The words sunk through his skin almost painfully slow. Andrew always had so much faith in him, more faith than Kevin deserved. He saw things that Kevin didn’t think were there, had hopes for him that he didn’t think he could meet. 

Kevin wanted to kiss him. He wanted to kiss Andrew until his words were all he was filled with, until every breath he took echoed them in his ears so he’d never forget them, until they were forged so tightly inside him that they might catch and become true. 

It must have shown on his face for between one shuddered exhale and the next Andrew's eyes darkened and he was growling out a _yes_ the second Kevin’s mouth started to form the question. When they reached for each other it felt like tectonic plates colliding and Kevin let himself shatter with the force of it. 

He wanted, he wanted so badly he ached with it. He wanted to feel everything and anything that Andrew would give him, wanted to offer himself up in any way he would be taken as long as he was, as long as Andrew kept holding on to him with a grip that said he wasn’t going to let go. 

The walk to the bedroom was less a walk than a tornado steering them through the house. Andrew’s teeth bit into his lip so hard he tasted blood and Kevin's hands were guided to his hair, the strands soft between his fingers even as he was allowed to pull, to guide. The door to the bedroom hit the wall with a crash but it was the low sound of Andrew growling into his mouth that echoed through Kevin’s ears. 

When his back hit the bed it was less the sudden impact than the aching on Andrew's face that knocked the air out of him. 

Andrew undressed every part of him like he was uncovering gold. Every exposed piece of skin was warmed with careful fingers and every discarded layer was rewarded with a kiss; his mouth, his neck, the skin of his hip and the curve of his knee. 

There were mountains of words that needed to be said, days and weeks and months of secrets and half-truths that ought to be told. Just for a moment though, just for this moment, Kevin didn’t want to remember any of them. 

He wanted this, Andrew pressed close to him and nothing but soft touches and stuttered sighs. He wanted to forget everything. 

“Andrew.” He sighed, whimpered. “Andrew.” 

He gripped shaking fingers onto the curve of Andrew's shoulder at his nod and clung. Everything was heated and when Andrew shrugged out of his own clothes it was an inferno. 

“Andrew.” He said again because he could, because he was here and they were together, finally together. 

Andrew's hands slid up the expanse of his thighs, his thumbs pressing into his hip bones before sliding up, up, up to cup around his jaw. There was the smallest slither of space between them, the weight of Andrew's body kept carefully away. Andrew kissed him achingly slow, drawing back only to drag another desperate sound from Kevin's mouth. 

“Yes or no?” He asked between one pass and the next. 

“Anything.” Kevin panted, body near vibrating off the bed. He didn’t know what to do, what to ask for. He wanted to touch every part of Andrew that he was allowed and he wanted to lay himself open for Andrew’s taking. 

Teeth bit at the curve of his jaw and he hissed. 

“Yes or no?” Andrew repeated, using his grip to turn Kevin's head and press his lips against the sensitive spot behind his ear. He couldn’t control the arch of his spine or the moan punched from his chest if he had wanted to try. 

“Kevin.” 

“Yes.” He gasped. “It’s a yes.” 

The press of Andrew's tongue when he kissed him next was consuming. Everything tumbled after that, hands became fingers, became sparks and fireworks. 

When Andrew moved inside of him--_finally, finally_\--it was torturingly slow, pulling out nearly all the way before pushing back in. Kevin whined in his throat, back briefly arching off the bed. His skin was slick with sweat but he barely felt it, too consumed by the heat burning through his insides. 

“Andrew.” He begged, but he wasn’t sure what he was asking for. Anything. Everything. _Stay with me. _

Andrew trailed his hands feather-light up Kevin’s sides to grip around his ribs, fingertips digging lightly into the flesh. “I’m here.” 

It was a repeat of the promise he had told Kevin before and it set his skin trembling. He wanted to sob with the feelings rolling through his chest but all that came out was a choked moan as Andrew shifted his angle, still so slow but so very good. 

Andrew pressed into him like he had all the time in the world, like he wanted to take him apart and Kevin would let him, wanted him to even. The slow drag of Andrew inside him was a delicious burn that sent every nerve in him thrumming. The sheer intensity of being under Andrew and his laser-like focus was making his head spin. He felt like he could fly away but Andrew's hands were tethers tying him down. 

“Have you got me?” He breathed out over a gasp and he could be embarrassed by the question but he just felt full in so many ways at that moment. He felt caught and held and he wanted to grip the feeling with iron hands. 

Andrew leant forward over him, stopping just shy of his lips and Kevin could feel the hitch of his sped breath between them. 

“I have you,” Andrew promised into his lips before devouring his mouth and Kevin’s orgasm crashed through him so suddenly and so strongly his body bowed up and up from the intensity, gasping into the kisses and shaking apart. 

Andrew swallowed every sound he made, never stopping his slow thrusts as wave after wave crashed over Kevin. He didn’t want it to stop and when his orgasm finally slowed he whimpered at the over sensitivity but used his legs to urge Andrew on. He didn’t think he could stand the emptiness of Andrew leaving him, wanted the man as close to him as he could get. 

Andrew's hips stuttered a little as his own climax neared but he kept his pace steady, hands digging into Kevin’s chest tighter now, moaning raggedly into Kevin’s mouth in a way he never did. He didn’t know if it was for his benefit or if Andrew was feeling as overwhelmed as Kevin was, the thrumming need of close, close, closer. When Andrew reached his end he gasped Kevin’s name into the air between them like a plea, pressing in close to Kevin’s body and shaking through the aftershocks. 

He didn’t pull away immediately after, that simple act throwing Kevin more than anything else. Andrew, after sex was distant, seeking space to get himself back under control, and Kevin had never minded that about him; he understood. Now Andrew simply let his arms go slack, falling down and rolling until they were pressed together along their sides at every point. 

“Andrew?” Kevin whispered, afraid to move, afraid to cross a line. 

“It’s still yes,” Andrew said and his voice sounded a little broken and a lot satisfied. It did pleasant things to Kevin’s stomach and let himself turn too, his face so close to Andrew’s he could feel every shift of breath between them. 

Andrew's cheeks were red. It was the first thing that struck him as he let his gaze wash across him and Kevin wanted to press his palm there and see if it was as warm to the touch as it looked. He didn’t. Andrew's yes's were a fragile thing and he didn’t want to push the openness he had been given.

“Staring.” Andrew accused. 

“Can’t help it.” Kevin murmured, following the curve of Andrew’s cheeks to the slope of his nose. Andrew frowned but didn’t say anything, didn’t tell him to stop. 

Kevin felt like he was in a bubble. His limbs felt loose and pliant from his release, his skin tingling as he started to cool. He loved this feeling, the deep settling of bones as his body came down. It was the same feeling he chased after a particularly good training session or match, the sensation of having worked himself and the satisfaction that came from the ache after. It was better, always better, like this though. With Andrew. With Neil. 

It was the pleased vibration under his skin that came from the moments of connection, the show of trust, the care of offering their bodies to each other. It was the feeling he had been missing, the high he wasn’t able to chase without them in his orbit. It was what he had to lose, had lost, in the months they had been apart. 

“Kevin.” Andrew murmured and he reached out a hand, fingers resting lightly on the bones of Kevin's wrist before trailing up his arm. Goosebumps rose to touch immediately and Kevin shivered. 

How long would he get to have this this time? How long before he was sent away again, how long before he was allowed back?

Andrew’s fingers drifted up to his arm and over his collarbone, slipping round to the back of his neck. 

“Stay with me.” 

His eyes must have widened or his breath must have caught because Andrew’s brow furrowed, his hand going from a gentle caress to a more firm press.

“Kevin,” He said and Kevin could feel tremors run over him that no longer came from pleasure. 

“I’m here,” Andrew told him, reminded him.

_For now_, Kevin wanted to accuse. _For how long_, he wanted to ask. 

“I can’t.” He gasped, choked, forcing himself away from Andrew in an almost startled motion. He was off the bed before Andrew's hand had time to fall to the mattress, had his clothes in his arms before Andrew could lean himself up from the bed. The door crashed against the wall and the sickening symmetry just made him move faster, made him skip every other step as he willed his body to get him down the stairs. 

Andrew didn’t follow him. He wasn’t sure if he wanted him to. 

…

It was cold in Columbia.

The sky was clear above him, barely a cloud blocking the sight of the stars. He used to lay here some nights with Neil, heads close together in the grass as they named all the constellations they could and gave new names to the ones they couldn’t. He never seemed to feel cold on those nights, not with Neil tucked into his side, their feet tangling and untangling as they talked long into the night. Sometimes Andrew would join them, the cherry of his cigarette the only point of light. They’d watch the path of it in the dark and pretend it was their north star, their guide to home. 

He was cold now. The ground was hard beneath him and even with his legs tucked up close to his chest, chin on his knees, he couldn’t stop shaking. 

He tried, had been trying for what felt like hours now, to pinpoint the moment everything stopped being easy. When had Andrew's touch stopped being the anchor he used to find shelter in the storm? When had Neil’s voice ceased to be the one thing he sought when everything else got too loud? 

He felt like he was trying to hold water between his palms. For a moment he could, the small pool curved protectively in his grip but the moment always faded, the water spilling between all the gaps and holes he couldn’t keep closed. He wanted to be strong enough to hold on. 

He let his head fall back and up, closing his eyes as the breeze ruffled his hair across his forehead. He was tired. So tired. He was uncomfortably awake, alert and on edge and unable to settle. 

The low rumble of a car driving up the street didn’t register over the buzzing in his head. The sound of a door opening and closing with just a little too much force didn’t disturb him until he saw behind his eyelids the slight shift of light. Someone was moving in the house behind him. He couldn't find the will to make his body react. The grass itched at his exposed feet, his socks weren’t something he had managed to grab in his scramble. He scratched the skin of the back of his hand instead. 

He had no way of knowing how much time was passing, how long it was before the screen behind him was slid open. Maybe if he stayed here long enough then time would simply stop. If he could be trapped forever at this moment, he might take it. If nothing could get any worse, could change any more irreversibly, he could live with that. 

“Kev.” Someone said and it was barely louder than the air that was moving the trees. 

He didn’t move, didn’t open his eyes, barely breathed. 

There was the slow shuffle of steps, hesitant, wary, first on stone and then on the starting to dampen grass. He was approached so carefully, so cautiously that he felt like the gnawing monster inside his chest must be showing on the outside. 

The first press against him had him dropping his head back towards his knees, had him gripping his hands together all the tighter as a back pressed against his. Warmth spread up the length of his spine as a weight settled against him that he was powerless to resist. He exhaled slowly, every bit of air leaving him as inch by inch he let himself slowly curve back into the body that held strong to support him. 

“I’m here,” Neil told him and Kevin raised his head back towards the stars, took in air that hurt as the chill of it filled his lungs and couldn’t make himself open his eyes. 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I'M SORRY! I didn't mean for it to be so long since the last update. Life got in the way like it tends to and then I found it so hard to get back into this. Whenever I tried to get back into Kevin's head it just made me really sad. I'm not so sure if this chapter came out anything like i originally intended but it's here now regardless so i hope it was worth at least a little of the wait!
> 
> Thank you to my beta, Essence29, who has been so lovely about making me feel less crappy for not working on this for so long!
> 
> Also thank you to my boyfriend who won't see this and has never read anything i've written (not for a lack of interest, I'm too scared to show him) but still keeps gently nudging me to sit down and start writing this fic again. He's really out there trying for you guys lol

He didn’t know how much of the night had slipped by before he stood. It wasn’t really a decision, there was no thought that went across the numbness that had settled around him. Neil was a warmth at his back until he no longer was, the small connection breaking as Kevin rose to his feet. For a brief moment, he could feel the static of the back of their shirts as they slid together before the sensation was gone. 

The grass was rough under his feet as he walked. There was a buzzing in his ears that made Neils quiet call of his name nothing more than a hum in the background. He was tired. He was cold; cold across his skin and cold down to his bones, cold in his chest and cold around the shallow fluttering of his heart. 

It was only the small pinprick of a lit cigarette that allowed him to see Andrew leaning against the wall of the house, standing sentry at the door. Kevin had never heard him come out. Maybe the fog behind his eyes had already settled too heavily for him to. 

There were no words that he could say that would make what he had done better, no comfort he could offer that would outweigh the vulnerability he had been gifted and quickly stamped on. He stayed silent, eyes cast down and heavy enough that they could fall from his face if he only blinked too hard. 

The back door opened with only a small squeal of old hinges but it was like thunder to his ears. He was so tired. The bottom of the stairs came up on the side of him and he paused, clenched and unclenched the fingers of his left hand and wanted. Wanted to climb the few steps that would take him back to the place where there had only ever been warmth and trust and acceptance. He wanted to curl under the covers that smelled like home and he wanted to feel like he still had a place that he belonged to. 

“Kevin?” Neil was soft at his shoulder, unsure and careful.

Kevin turned towards the living room, muscle memory from so many nights of drunkenly stumbling his way to the couch that had become his bed, navigating easy. He could almost smell whisky in the air, taste vodka on the back of his tongue. He wanted a drink. He wanted there to be a bottle stuffed in the back of the freezer that he could steal mouthful by blissful mouthful. He wanted to forget. 

The couch was still indented with the shape of his body when he sank down onto it. It was nauseating in its comfort. 

“Kevin,” Neil said again and Kevin closed his eyes so he couldn’t see him standing behind the back of the couch, fingers curled into the fabric and eyes downcast in concern. 

“Do you want someone to stay with you?” Neil asked and Kevin couldn’t answer. 

He didn’t deserve comfort. Maybe Neil didn’t know that yet, maybe Andrew had yet to tell him all the ways that Kevin had shattered and broken everything in his path. It was okay, he would know soon enough. 

“Kev?”

“Neil.” Andrew's voice was like warm honey on a sore throat yet sent ice skittering down Kevin’s spine. He curled into himself, hands crushed to his stomach and pressed his eyes as tightly closed as he could manage. 

There was a moment of silence that was anything but, the air charged in the way Kevin didn’t need to see to know meant Andrew and Neil were communicating in the voiceless way they always could, the way Kevin couldn’t. 

They left, near-silent except for the soft drag of their shoes on the carpet. They left, because Kevin hadn’t told them to stay. They left, because Kevin had to ask for what he wanted if he was going to get it. They left, because Kevin couldn’t say _yes_ so he had all but told them no.

He was so _tired_. 

…

Kevin couldn’t tell what time it was. 

He’d been watching the shadows creep across the floor for a while, tracking the sun as it spread into the room and chased away the lingering shadows that may have only existed in his head to begin with. His legs were uncomfortably hot, the sun having settled over his thighs and the thick blanket he hadn’t gone to sleep with. It seemed unfathomable that he had managed to succumb to sleep at all. 

He studied the threads and folds until he had had to force his eyes away, a thickness clogging his throat that he couldn’t allow to take hold. There was an absence of noise in the back of his mind as if someone had thrown a blanket there too. If he stayed still, if he didn’t let anything hook into him and take hold, maybe he could hold on to it for just a few moments more. 

He let his other senses wander and realised he could smell food. For a second he could almost pretend that it was the day before, that the last night was nothing but a nightmare. When he convinced his body to move and shuffled sleepily to the kitchen Andrew would be standing there flipping potato cakes on the stove and Kevin would still have time to not keep making mistakes. 

It was a fruitless wish that was only solidified by the quiet murmurings he could hear through the doorway. He could hear Andrew and he could hear the gentle bangs and scraps that indicated cooking, but he could also hear Neil. He could hear Neil, which meant the night before was as real as the scars on his hand and the tattoo on his cheek. 

He could stay there, too long limbs cramped onto the too-small couch. He should stay there. He knew what would follow his waking, knew he would be expected to have words and explanations. The answers to all the questions he knew his partners would have weren’t words he knew how to put together. 

“Kev?” 

Kevin turned his head without lifting it, meeting Neil’s cool blue eyes from across the room. He opened his mouth to respond on autopilot but nothing came out. Neil’s eyes furrowed, a concerned pull at the edges of his mouth and Kevin watched the way he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. 

“Andrew made breakfast. Oatmeal.” Neil offered. “I can bring you some if you don’t want to get up.” 

He spoke like Kevin was something fragile, like a glass vase on the precipice of falling from the edge of the table. That was who Kevin was now. He wasn’t the prodigal son of Exy, a Queen of his own court or the survivor of his own capture. He was the little broken bird, skittish and scared. 

“Kevin?” 

His mouth felt filled with cotton but his limbs bunched with tension when he forced them to move, rising from the couch with barely any strength to give. He didn’t remember what it felt like to not feel tired. 

He stepped up to Neil in the doorway and it was so achingly familiar the way Neil fit perfectly into the curve of him when he leant down. It reminded him painfully of how much he missed him, how much he wanted him close and how far away he always was.

“Yes or no?” He asked roughly and Neil didn’t hesitate even a second to nod. They didn’t need the verbalisation as much as Andrew, had let it go more often than not between them. Assumptions felt dangerous now. 

Neil’s breath caught as Kevin captured him in a kiss, a shuddered release of air that was followed by all his muscles melting. The kiss tasted of desperation, of fingers hanging on for dear life and relief that the other was still in grasp. It was not enough and it was more than Kevin could handle. 

He stepped back before he did something stupid like fall to knees before Neil. He couldn’t look back as he turned away and pressed his fingertip to mouth, memorising. He ignored Neil’s small exhale of his name and used the fingertip to keep his own words inside.

His silence was a cloud that followed him into the kitchen, but the thickness in his throat was quickly dissolving into a mass of anxiety in his stomach. Approaching the table Andrew was serving food on to, it felt like walking into a cage and offering his captor the key. 

Andrew didn’t even look at him as Kevin pulled out a chair and sank stiffly into it, just dropped into his own and immediately started eating. He sat at the head, two whole seats from Kevin and when Neil occupied his own it was at Andrew's side, Kevin left at the other end like a new houseguest. 

It wasn’t until he picked up his spoon that he could feel the tremors returning in his hands. 

He could feel every second as it passed and it felt like there were thousands of them, millions. Years could have moved on around them but for every mouthful that stuck in Kevin’s throat as he struggled to get through his bowl, it still felt like too soon when Neil was clearing away the mess, was sitting back down and looking at Kevin down the table like the beginning of a trial. 

He needed a drink so badly he shuddered with it. The legs of his chair scraped noisily across the floor as he pushed himself up much too fast and stalked the few steps to the coffee pot. It smelt strong when he poured into but he knew it wouldn’t be strong enough. 

“It’s not spiked.” Andrew drawled almost disinterestedly and when Kevin snapped his head around Andrew was looking down at his phone. His fingers were still against the buttons and Kevin could see the screen was still locked. Not disinterested but a careful poke to see where Kevin’s wounds would give. 

He gritted his teeth, taking a mouthful of coffee that burnt the roof of his mouth. He wanted to turn tail and walk out the room. He wanted to go home even though this kitchen was more home than his empty apartment could ever hope to be. 

He placed two coffee mugs on the table instead, not caring if Andrew’s spilled over the rim. 

Neil wrapped his hands around his mug tight, the burn scars on his knuckles stretched. His eyes followed Kevin as he returned to his seat and Kevin felt like prey. 

“We should talk,” Neil said as soon as Kevin sat down. 

Kevin sighed, heavy and tired. 

“I don’t want to talk.” 

Neil frowned, a sharp twitch making the grip on his mug tighten. He looked like he was restraining himself. 

“It's important.”

Kevin dropped his eyes down and curled his hands around his own mug but the warmth did nothing to filter through the cotton that was surrounding him. “To who?” 

“To all of us,” Neil stressed like the answer should have been obvious. 

Maybe it should have been. They were a partnership, weren’t they? This is what they were supposed to be here for, the important stuff. The stuff that mattered. The stuff that kept them awake at night, that followed them around during the day like shadows just out of sight. 

“I don’t want to talk.” He said again and he doubted it went unnoticed how much more pleading it sounded the second time around. 

Neil made a small sound, part frustration and part wounded. Kevin could see his hand twitch on the table between them like he wanted to reach across but couldn’t work out whether he would be welcome. If Kevin would only raise his eyes he knew Neil would take it as consent. He kept his gaze firmly on the cooling dregs of his coffee. 

Neil sighed and his hand backed off. “You’re not okay.”

Kevin couldn’t help but snort even as he squeezed his eyes shut at the accusation. 

“You’re shit at compliments.”

“Kevin,” Andrew warned but it did nothing to settle the unnameable churnings in his chest. He didn’t want to be here but he didn’t know how to leave. 

“We just want to understand.” Neil continued and his chair creaked as he leaned forward in his seat. Kevin didn’t need to open his eyes to picture the pleading that would be in Neil’s eyes, the open offer to listen, the desire to be able to help. 

He looked up despite himself and felt his heart beat forcefully against the wall between them, felt the part of him that wanted, that always wanted, try to reach out. He thought he almost knew the words. They were just out of his reach, were just a little too hard to grab on to. The cracked feeling in his chest was too dangerous, was too close to spilling all the ugly desires that would leave him left behind. He wanted, he always wanted; but he still didn’t know how. 

He was too afraid to ask someone to show him how. 

He lifted the mug the small distance to his mouth just for a movement to make and a second more time. 

“You wouldn’t.” He argued weakly. 

Neil didn’t give in. Neil never gave in. “Try me.” 

“What would be the point?” He felt as if part of himself had been hollowed, like he’d left a piece of himself outside on the grass for only the stars to have. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

_I can’t talk about this,_ he didn’t say. _I’m not strong enough_. 

“You’re being difficult.” Neil accused and there was the first spark of irritation in his voice as he pushed a hand up through his hair. It was longer since the last time Kevin had seen him and he wondered detached if Allison knew he was growing it out. 

He liked the way it looked. He always liked when Neil made choices about his own appearance that weren’t fueled by his old desire to hide. 

“Neil,” Andrew said in the same way he had said Kevin’s name, a warning. 

He didn’t know whether Andrew intended to participate or spectate. There had to have been a conversation between them, a dissecting of Kevin’s failures and his flee from Andrew. Had they drawn a battle plan? Had they decided what to interrogate him with, where to push and what they wanted to know to make them feel okay with when they eventually decided to give up on him?

Kevin put his mug back on the table and rested his chin on one fist, rolling his eyes almost lazily to Andrew. The phone had disappeared and his stare was met with silence, then, a slow moment later, the rise of an eyebrow. It almost felt like a challenge. It wasn’t one Kevin had the energy to rise to and he looked away. He didn’t know if he imagined the small huff of an exhale Andrew made. 

”You’re so hard to talk to when you’re like this.” Neil sighed and it was an almost painful sound, shaky at the exhale and when Kevin allowed his gaze to settle back around, Neil looked as tired as Kevin felt. 

How exhausting. How maddening. How inconvenient Kevin was to those around him. He should get up and walk away, save them all from a drawn-out encounter that was surely only going to end one way. 

“Like what?” He asked quietly, curious only because he couldn’t work out himself what he looked like to them. Each of his own guesses was worse than the one before. 

“Disconnected,” Andrew answered as simply as commenting on the weather. 

The muscles in Kevin’s jaw were starting to ache and only when he realised that did he notice the way he was grinding his back teeth. Forcing them to release hurt. 

“What do you want me to say?”

“Anything,” Neil said in a hurry before flicking a look to Andrew almost like he was asking permission. He didn’t turn to see if Neil got it. 

He could say no, he was allowed. They were always allowed. He could walk away and for a moment his feet tensed in preparation to stand, to flee; but he locked that way and froze. He didn’t want to talk. He didn’t want to lay out all of his mistakes for judgement. He didn’t want to be alone either, didn’t want to keep pushing everything down and away with a force that had long been smothering him.

He forced himself to release his mug and rubbed a hand across his face if only to hide how much effort it took to stay seated. 

“What do you want to know?” He offered and it felt like biting down on glass, letting those words out. 

Neil’s exhale of air was all relief. 

“When did you start drinking again?” 

Kevin flinched. Straight for the throat. He wouldn’t have expected anything less from Neil. 

“You won’t like the answer to that.” Kevin shook his head. He could tell him. He could tell him how his careless words had flung Kevin’s life into a spiral. He could spit out the accusation to attack, to hurt. He could pretend if he wanted that it was Neil’s fault when he knew, he only had himself to blame for his weakness. “Pick a different one.” 

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to know.” Neil pressed. “Can you be honest with us, for just a minute?” 

The words were out of him before he could stop them. “Like you are?”

Neil frowned, taken back. “I haven’t lied to you.” 

“Today.” Kevin accused and all at once he felt a little out of control of his tongue, his thoughts slow but loose. It seemed to be the only way he could react lately, either drowned under the weight of his anxiety or with an irritation that was quick to come and harder to stifle. “It’s habitual. Everyone knows that. It doesn’t take you any effort at all.” 

Neil pushed his mug away from him with an irritable scoff, clenching and unclenching his fist once against the tabletop in a telltale move of annoyance. He was always so expressive, so reactive in his emotions now that he had the freedom to actually feel them. It was something Kevin was proud of even if being on the receiving end of it was less than enjoyable. 

“Now you’re being antagonistic.” Neil accused and Kevin scoffed. 

“I wonder where I learnt that.” 

“Kevin.” Neil snapped, sighed, groaned. “Playing the blame game with me is not going to-“

“Is it not a good time?” Kevin interrupted, voice nearly devoid of anything but Neil froze as if Kevin had screamed them. It didn’t make him feel as good at all but it didn’t stop him from continuing. 

“Should I come back later?” He asked, leaning forward a little in his seat as he saw his words land home. It was cruel. He was being cruel. 

“Kevin-“

“You get how funny this is, don’t you?” He asked and he vibrated with all the tension he had been pushing down, all the hurt that he had been trying so hard not to feel. The fog in his head was dissolving like cotton candy and he didn’t like what was resting behind it. 

“You're sitting there demanding answers from me but you don’t listen, Neil.” 

He could feel Andrew watching them, could feel the way he must have shifted, his eyes narrowing. He knew something had happened between the two of them and Kevin didn’t know if Neil had filled him in on the details or not. The atmosphere in the room shifted between one blink and the next, growing heavy and charged. 

“That isn’t fair.” Neil managed to argue eventually. He shifted in his seat like the effort of keeping still was too much. 

“I tried,” Kevin said and it was a truth he hadn’t admitted yet. For all the times he couldn’t make himself reach out, all the times he couldn’t find the words or the will; he had tried, once.

“I didn’t know.” 

“Or was it care?” Kevin asked unfairly and when Neil flinched it made his stomach turn over. 

Neil's voice was as raw and hurt as Kevin had ever heard it.

“Of course I care.” 

The ‘about you’ rang loudly between them. 

“But you weren’t there.” He accused, much like he had accused Andrew. The one big failure that he knew wasn’t their fault, wasn’t fair to lay on them but couldn’t let go of all the same. 

“If you had asked me to be I would have.” Neil tried to reason, his palms pressing into the table between them now. Kevin wondered if he wanted to reach out, if he thought he could fix Kevin with a hand on his neck or a palm to his chest. 

“I didn’t know how.” He rebuffed automatically. 

“It was a lot, that night,” Neil tried to explain. “I’m sorry you were lonely and I didn’t noti—“

“You think I called you because I was lonely?” Kevin laughed, the sound punching out of him before he could stop it. He was, achingly so and it never went away but that day, that day that hadn’t been it. 

He could still feel the pressure on his chest and the pounding of his heart as he had stared at that car. He could never shake the itching sensation of being watched, the nagging voice that told him he must do better, be better or he’d be put down. 

“Why did you call?” It was Andrew who asked, his first real contribution to this altercation. His voice was level but Kevin had known him long enough now to hear the steel and weight behind it. 

It would panic Neil to know. It would anger Andrew. It would do nothing to make Kevin feel better or erase what had already happened. He spat the words into the air between them anyway, laid them on the table between them like a carcass for them to stare at in horror. 

“I thought they were going to kill me.” 

Everything was still for a long moment and Kevin thought if he really listened, he could hear his future slipping through his fingers. 

Andrew's voice was ice cold when he spoke. “Explain.” 

His fingertips were pressing into the scars of his hand before he could stop himself and he knew that both men followed the movement immediately. 

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Kevin said shakily, all his bluster running away from him.

“Kevin.” Andrew said through gritted teeth and Kevin couldn’t stop the way he stiffened, hardwired after all this time to freeze at that tone of voice. The tone that held no room for disagreement, that wouldn’t accept anything less than the truth and for that truth to be delivered immediately. 

He only had himself to blame for the situation he had arrived at. 

“The Moriyama’s.” Saying the name made his throat itch and his stomach clench. 

“Did they do something?” Neil demanded, all coiled anger and voice as sharp as a knife. “If they hurt you-”

“They didn’t.” Kevin snapped, bringing his clasped hands closer to his stomach. “They were watching me.” 

“Watching you how?” Andrew asked.

“There was a car,” He answered weakly, every word feeling like an admission of guilt. If he had been better, if he had tried harder then he would never have found himself in these positions. “It was outside my apartment when I got home.” 

Neil made a sound that could only be described as a growl. “And you’re sure it was them?” 

Kevin nodded. 

“Are you _sure_?” Neil pressed and Kevin wilted under the suggestion that he was wrong. Did they not trust him to know? 

“I’m sure.”

“How-”

“He texted me.” Kevin snapped over Neils continuing questions. “After those articles came out about me. After I fucked up my first game.” 

Neil’s face paled a little but the fire in his eyes only seemed to grow, the blue so bright it almost glowed with the anger it held. 

“You should have told us.” 

Kevin was so fucking _tired_. “I tried.”

“This doesn’t affect just you.” Neil accused and he was almost out of his seat with how far forward he was leaning. “If they’re keeping tabs on you then we need to know about it.” 

_“I tried,”_ Kevin repeated and he couldn’t keep doing this, talking around in circles, trying to make sense of why some words would come and why some choked him as they got stuck. 

“You should have tried again.” Neil spat and Kevin knew all the ways that Neil’s temper stole his sense and twisted his words. He knew, but it tore the crack in his chest open a little more all the same. 

“It was too hard.” He argued. “You didn’t listen to me.” 

“You should have made me listen!” Neil snapped. “That day or any other day afterwards. You can’t keep things like that from me, from us.” 

Andrew had fallen silent again and it was worse than being yelled at, worse than being scolded. It felt like a dismissal, as if Andrew had already washed his hands of him. He dug his nails harder into his scars and fought with the growing pressure in his throat. 

“You didn’t care.“

Neil's outburst was explosive. 

“Of course I care! Haven’t I proved that? Didn’t I spend what I thought was the last year of my life trying to make sure you were okay? That you got to make it out alive? I was going to die for you Kevin and _your_ future.” His chest heaved and his face twisted, a litany of emotions passing by too fast to really decipher. His voice dropped all of a sudden, his anger turning into something more broken, more disappointed. 

“You still don’t have a clue. You never learn. People keep fighting for you, keep throwing themselves in the fire for you and you still don’t understand.” 

“Then enlighten me,” Kevin growled back even as he started to tremble in his seat.

“You’re angry because we weren’t there yet you push us away when we try.” Neil accused. “You’re spinning us in circles because you’re deflecting. You always do when things get hard.”

“I wasn’t aware I was so predictable.” He almost sneered, except that he did. He knew his anxiety was a time bomb that never stopped ticking.

“We can’t help you if you won’t talk to us. We want to help, but at some point, you have to meet someone halfway.” 

“I tried.” He shot back again and Neil threw his hands into the air, an exhalation of pure frustration leaving him. 

“I made a mistake.”

Kevin had made many, a fact he knew all too well. He kept making them and worse, he kept making the same ones. He was making them now. He was single-handedly chipping away at the one thing he needed more than anything, the people that gave him the foundation he so shakily stood on. He knew he should stop. He knew it. 

“You told me you didn’t need me.” He said quietly instead. 

Everything drained out of Neil immediately. 

“I didn’t,” Neil stuttered barely audible, eyes wide. He looked at Kevin like he had just punched a hole through his chest and tugged. “I didn’t mean it. I told you I didn’t mean that.”

“You said it.” Kevin trembled with the adrenaline hurtling it’s way around him. “You said it and I know it’s fucking true, okay? Neither of you needs me anymore but that doesn’t mean I…” He smashed his teeth together violently.

“I just want to help you.” Neil said softly, sadly and Kevin saw Andrew reach under the table, likely pressing his hand to Neil’s knee. 

Why didn’t he reach out to Kevin? Was it because he couldn’t stand the thought of touching him or because he had already given up on trying to fix him? Looking Andrew in the eye was almost enough to unravel him but he steeled his gaze as much as he knew how to and turned. 

“I don’t need help.” He said in a voice that didn’t even come close to strong. He saw the words wash over Andrew and he saw how little he believed them. 

“I thought I was the liar.” Neil accused him softly and the gentle delivery of Kevin's own accusation made him feel sick. 

“It’s not my fault you believe me.” Kevin argued unfairly as he turned back to face him. 

“You’re so...” Neil huffed while screwing his hands into fists on the table once again. “I can only know what you tell me. I can’t read your mind.”

“It wasn’t that easy.” 

“Nothing is.” Neil urged him. “What about anything we’ve been through has been easy? Do you think it’s been all roses these last few months for us too? We don’t all hide our heads in the sand.”

“That’s not fair.” Kevin trembled as chills ran from his toes to his head. He was standing before he made the decision and his chair clattered as he pushed it shakily away from himself. He could feel Andrew’s eyes track him like a weight on his skin.

“You don’t understand. You never understand.”

“You haven’t changed. You still can’t handle difficult.” Neil stood too, bracing his hands on the table. His face twisted then, a look Kevin hadn’t seen on him in years morphing the soft lines of him into something brittle.

“You’re still a fucking cowar—“

Everything snapped and crackled, the world under his feet spinning too fast for him to think. One second he was frozen, the next he was around the table, his hands pushed out and he shoved Neil in the chest, fire burning his insides. Someone yelled, someone snarled, hands batted at Kevin’s as he went to grab and then he was being driven away with an elbow to the stomach. 

“Back off.” Andrew ordered, stood between them with a hand out to either of them and warning in every inch of his body.

“Shut up. Now.” He barked when Neil opened his mouth and hissed the start of something. 

“Outside.” He told Neil, grabbing a fistful of his shirt and using it to throw him in the direction of the door when he was ignored. 

Kevin couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything but shake with the sheer amount of fury that was churning through him. There were so many words that didn’t enter into their world anymore. _Please, misunderstanding, Nathaniel_. They didn’t say those words. He had thought he had earned the same rights. He had thought he deserved to not have that word thrown at him. He had thought they had seen something in him that others hadn’t; had known a truth that he found so very hard to make in his defense. 

He didn’t want to be a coward. Not to them. Not to Neil. 

“Go lie down,” Andrew told him, cutting into the tornado that was his mind with a palm in front of his face and an unreadable expression on his own.

“I’m not tired.” He snapped back, body feeling like a tightly coiled spring. He wanted to follow Neil into the backyard. He didn’t know if he wanted another chance to wipe the word out of his mouth or beg for him to take it back. 

“I feel tired just looking at the circles under your eyes.” Andrew scoffed before he exhaled, a move out of character for the way he looked so all of a sudden tired himself. His face fell into an expression that only spoke of weariness, exhaustion.

“Just go Kevin.” He pressed and Kevin felt his insides turn to stones that threatened to send him to the ground. 

_Just go_. He said it so simply, so easily. Just go, get out of sight, get out of the way. Stop being a nuisance. Stop being a hindrance.

“Fine.” He raised his palms in a mock show of submission and walked a few steps back in the direction of the stairs.

“I’m sure you need to chase after Neil anyway. He will always come first.” 

…

He’d never felt more like he doesn’t belong than walking into what was their room and feeling like an intruder. 

The bed was made, all the corners tucked in tight and the pillows lined up perfectly in a way it never was. Never, except when Andrew made it. Only when he was stressed or on edge, when he needed to control as much of his surroundings as he possibly could. Only when there were other things around him that he couldn’t control. Sometimes it was nightmares, sometimes it was old voices or the ghost sensation of old hands. 

Sometimes it was words he couldn’t get out or feelings he didn’t know how to process. It was them, sometimes, himself and Neil. When they do something or say something that turned Andrew’s world on its head. He’d done it for the whole week before he’d first kissed Kevin. 

Looking at it now made Kevin’s chest ache. He was the problem Andrew couldn’t work out, the blip in their routine that was gnawing at the inside of him. Had he done it this morning after waking, rolling out of the bed after Neil and then carefully laying the edges? Or had he done it after Kevin had fled the night before? Erasing the evidence of what they had just done like a reminder he couldn't bare to look at. 

He wanted to tear it apart with his bare hands. He wanted to bury his face in and breathe it in. He wanted to stop wanting things so badly that they burned marks onto the insides of him, charred the tender parts of himself until all he could feel was the burn of missing. 

The sound of a phone ringing snapped him from his frozen indecision and he blinked, tracing the sound around the room until his eyes fell on the dresser. It was his phone, lined up perfectly across the edge in a way that could only be deliberate. 

His anger snapped and folded in on itself, collapsing down into his chest as he walked numbly over to it, tilting to see the screen. 

It was Wymack. 

A wave of sadness washed over him so strongly that he swayed with it, reaching out and grasping the edge of the dresser before his knees could give way on him. He grabbed the phone almost desperately, a long-buried part of himself screaming for a father he hadn’t had and a comfort he still found near impossible to reach out for. 

“Dad.” His voice cracked immediately, a horribly wet sound following. 

There was a stunned moment of silence and he could almost hear Wymack startle on the other end. 

_“Kevin?”_ Wymack’s voice was all confusion and concern. A door slammed shut and Kevin could picture him in his office surrounded by the clutter he always let collect. He was feet away from the only real home Kevin had ever known and the jealousy that rose in him burned. 

_“Son? What’s going on?”_

Kevin opened his mouth to answer and gasped, knees folding under him as he slid to the ground in one sudden movement. His hand shook as he pressed it to his face before holding it before his eyes. He was crying. How could he not know that he had started crying? He hadn’t cried in years, not since...not since he had found out Riko’s death wasn’t a suicide.

He’d collapsed then too, curled in on himself on a bathroom floor unable to breathe until Wymack had wrapped his arms around him and not let go until Kevin could find a way to start again. 

“_I need you to talk to me Kevin,_” Wymack’s voice was loud but shaky. “_Are you hurt?_” 

He didn’t remember the last time he didn’t feel hurt, didn’t feel like he was a glasshouse an inch away from falling off a cliff. 

“No,” He managed to choke out. “Yes. _Dad._”

“_Okay, okay, breathe Kevin. Try and breathe. I’m here._” 

A pained whine left him and pressed his hand to his eyes again. 

“Don’t say that.” He said through the thickness in his throat. He wasn’t, no one ever was when Kevin really needed them. 

Wymack didn’t stumble. “_Okay. Can you tell me what’s wrong?”_

“Everything.” Kevin choked. “Everything's wrong.” 

“_Are you alone?_” There was an obvious pause before Wymack continued. “_Are they with you? Neil and Andrew? Is that where Neil ran off to suddenly? Andrew hasn’t come back yet either_.” 

Kevin couldn’t stop the low, pained noise that rose in the back of his throat. 

“They were.” 

“_They left?_”

“No.” 

“_Kevin?_” Wymack’s voice was all confusion and concern. “_What did they do?_”

“Nothing. They didn’t,” Kevin leaned forwards until he could press his forehead into the carpet. His phone dug painfully into the side of his face but he held onto it like a lifeline. “I did. It was me. It’s always me.” 

He coughed roughly around the tears that felt like they were drowning him. 

“I screwed it up. I screwed it all up.” 

“_Kevin I need you to try and calm down, alright? Whatever it is, I’m sure it can be fixed. Those midgets are like dogs with a bone when they care about someone._” 

He was wrong yet he didn’t know how to find the words to explain that. He didn’t know how to tell his father that he was the disease that was tearing its way through their relationship. He was the weak one. The lesser one. The one who didn’t know how to do better than the fucked up version Riko had carved out of him. 

“I can’t,” He gasped. “I can’t do this.” 

He couldn’t keep doing this to them, couldn't keep forcing them through this dance that never seemed to end. 

“_Son, listen to me-_” Wymack tried but Kevin slammed his thumb down to end the call before he could finish, crushing the phone in his palm and curling over his completely, back arching as he keened. His tears pooled down his cheeks like a river that had broken its banks and he wanted to scream, wanted to yell until his throat tore and he could bleed out everything that made him unworthy. 

He needed it to stop, he needed everything to stop. He needed to leave.

His feet skidded on the floor as he forced himself up, his body near falling over itself as he threw all the energy he had left into just moving. He couldn’t think, could only move, could only propel himself out of the room and down the stairs in a flight that was sickenly familiar in its desperation. 

There was no one downstairs or the screaming in his head that told him to leave was too loud for him to notice. His whole body felt like a livewire and his eyes scanned frantically around until they landed on Neil’s jacket, thrown haphazardly by the door. Kevin dove into the right pocket and clasped the keys so tightly that they bit into his skin. His feet were rushing him out the front door the second his hand cleared the pocket and the sound the door made as it banged back in the hinges but have been loud enough for someone to hear.

He didn’t care. He couldn’t care. He could only wrench open the door of the Maserati and fold himself into it, could only bring the engine to life with a roar and press his foot so hard on the gas that the car groaned. He could only let himself be pulled away down the street and try with every last bit of strength that he had to not look in the rear mirror as home fell into the distance behind him. 


End file.
